


City of Light

by Velvet95



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 16:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 29,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7059784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velvet95/pseuds/Velvet95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A reader request for a Genderbent LOK story: Brother Kor is a highly prized acolyte in the Order of the White Lotus, under the close supervision of his uncle, the Father Superior Lord Unalaq. Little does Kor know Unalaq is not the benevolent holy man Kor thinks him to be, but with the help of a beautiful ally he will discover the truth about his uncle and himself...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a requested work from ObeliskX, and while I'm not sure how quickly I'll be able to get updates out wanted to at least get the intro published. I've never tried doing a genderbent story before, so be kind... 
> 
> :) 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The clash of weapons rings harshly in the early morning chill, hoarse battle cries interspersed with the screams of the dying. The snow-covered field is stained with blood and ash.

The voice of the Father Superior booms out over the field. “Hold the line, my brothers! The righteous will prevail!”

There’s a bellow of rage in response and the battle intensifies. Great plumes of flame erupt in the midst of geysers of earth and ice, bodies hurled into the air.

An acolyte comes panting up to the Father Superior, standing with his guard overlooking the field.

“My Lord Unalaq,” he gasps. “We are betrayed! A troop of Lord Zuko’s men approached the Citadel by stealth and has attacked our rearguard! Brother Kor sent me to warn you.”

Lord Unalaq spins and stares at the messenger. “Where is Brother Kor now?” he demands quickly.

“He leads the defense forces at the Citadel, my Lord,” stammers the acolyte, flinching at the Father Superior’s glare.

“And why is _Brother_ _Kor_ leading those forces?” Unalaq growls. “I left Brother Noatak in charge!”

The acolyte drops his gaze. “Brother Noatak was not at the Citadel when the attackers came, my lord,” he whisper. “Nor was Brother Tarrlok.”

The Father Superior’s eyes narrow. He whirls and scans the battlefield, noting that the enemy troops are retreating under a vicious covering fire. “This was merely a diversion,” he snarls. “Sound the retreat! We return to the Citadel now!”

 

* * *

 

                                                                                                    

He struggles against his bindings, his eyes blindfolded, a rag between his teeth. He’s lying on something soft but his arms throb at the strain of being tied behind him. Nearby he hears the splash of water and feels a strong rocking underneath him; he’s on a ship. The sound of voices makes him pause, listening hard. They’re muffled, as if through a wall or door.

“Is that really him?”

“Yes, and keep your voice down!”

“Lord Zuko will be pleased.”

The prisoner’s eyes widen and he resumes his struggling. He bites back a groan as he twists his body, eventually working his bound hands past his hips, wriggling madly as he pulls his legs up before finally getting the toes of his boots tucked under his wrists. With one last grunt he gets his hands past his knees and hurriedly removes his gag and blindfold. He blinks as he looks around. He’s lying on a bunk in a ship’s cabin, the emblem of the Fire Kingdom prominently displayed everywhere. He stands on shaky legs and narrows his eyes, concentrating. His rope bindings part in a flash of light. He drops them to the floor then creeps over to a nearby port hole and eases it open. The fresh breeze streams in, chilling his face. In the distance he sees a hazy coastline beyond the large expanse of heaving water.

“Spirits guide me,” he mutters under his breath as he eyes the porthole, calculating its size. He blows out his breath and pulls himself through, wincing a bit at the tight fit. He hears footsteps approaching him and forces himself through faster, ignoring the sounds of his tunic ripping and the burn of skin scraped raw against the wood.. With a last heave he falls through into the bone-chillingly cold water. He immediately takes a deep breath and dives, spinning as he descends. A vortex of water swirls into life, pushing him along in the direction of the distant coast. He’s pummeled mercilessly by the strong currents and crashing waves — a storm is coming in and it hides as well as hinders him. He pushes on grimly, desperate to reach the shore and find some shelter.

Surfacing briefly, he looks around, trying to see if his captors discovered his absence but he can see no sign of the boat amidst the looming towers of water. He shivers as he retakes his bearings. His body aches from cold and his injuries and to his alarm he feels a languid exhaustion start to creep over him, lulling him into unconsciousness.

“Come on, Kor,” he says to himself. “You can make it.”

As he takes another deep breath a wave crashes hard onto him, forcing him deep into the surging froth. He struggles for the surface, his bending weakened from his fatigue. The waves grow larger and stronger and he fights along as best he can, until one last wave tumbles him head over heels and he loses all sense of direction. He chokes out one last gasp, “I commend myself to thy grace, O Spirits.”

Darkness takes him.

 

* * *

                                                                                                    

Voices, faint, as if heard through a long tunnel. Hands press lightly against his chest, on his neck.

“He’s still alive, my Lady, though only the Spirits know how.” A man’s voice, deep but kind.

He feels cold. There’s sand under his cheek, gritty and damp. The hands press harder against his back and he chokes, a spray of water forced past his lips. He hears himself groan as he heaves.

“That’s right, son,” says the voice. “Get all that out of you.”

“Bring him to the house,” orders another a voice. A woman, her voice low and husky.

“Yes, my Lady!”

The sensation of movement, strong hands bearing him up and carrying him along. They enter a dwelling, the air almost swelteringly hot after the extreme chill of the outside. His ruined clothing is removed and he’s laid carefully into a pool of warm water. A soft hand caresses his forehead, followed by the unmistakable sensation of liquid warmth; a waterbender’s healing touch.

“He’s in bad shape, my Lady,” says another woman’s voice. “But he will live.”

“Good,” says the first women. “I have some questions for him. However, they will keep until he is healed. Send word when he is ready.”

“By your will, my Lady.”


	2. Chapter 2

Kor’s eyes jerk open and he looks around in a panic. He struggles to sit up, but falls back with a groan as his body protests.

“You’re awake!”

Kor blinks as an unfamiliar face comes into view, curly hair framing a cheerful face with pale green eyes. He tries to sit up again, more slowly this time, but the man puts a gentle hand on his shoulder, restraining him.

“Careful there, my Lord,” the man says brightly. “You’ve had a hard time of it and need your rest.”

“I’m no lord,” Kor says shortly, closing his eyes against the discomfort. His throat feels raw and his voice is raspy, and he soon feels a gentle hand under his head and a cup pressed to his lips.

“Drink a little of this, my Lord,” the man urges, ignoring Kor’s protest. “It will help restore your strength.”

The tea is a mixture of sharp herbs and sweet honey. It soothes his throat as he swallows and a few minutes he starts to feel a little more energy. He looks around the room he’s in, noting the fireplace with a brightly burning fire, the stout wooden and leather furniture, and beautiful tapestries covering stone walls. The floor was covered with thick sheepskin rugs. It was a comfortable room without being ostentatious. It also notably did not look like a cell. “Where am I?” he asks finally. “Am I a prisoner?”

The man laughs as he sets the cup down on a nearby table. “No, my Lord!” he assures Kor. “You are the guest of my Lady who has ensured your health and comfort. For now you are under her protection.”

Kor frowns. “A woman rules you?”

“I owe her my life and my loyalty,” the man replies firmly. “I am Bolin, and I am to serve you while you are here.” He moves to the window and pulls back the heavy drapes, letting the afternoon light stream into the room. “You are a guest of my Lady Sato and we are currently at her country estate. If you are feeling up to it, you will join her for dinner.”

Kor’s eyes widens in fear. “I cannot!” he gasped.

Bolin blinks. “What’s the matter?”

Kor pulls his blankets up protectively. “I am forbidden from being in the presence of a woman,” he mumbles, his face bright red with embarrassment. “My Father Superior tells us that women embody the wickedness of humanity.”

Bolin straightens up immediately, his face outraged. “Well, I don’t know about your Father Superior, but I will tell you that I will not permit you to insult my Lady! She is good and kind and it is because of her that you live!” A sly smirk appears on his face. “I’ll have you know you were mother naked in front of our healer, and she’s _definitely_ a woman. No harm came from that.” He roars in laughter at the horrified look on Kor’s face, then sighs and shakes his head. “I will beg your pardon of my Lady for tonight, my Lord. Perhaps it’s best if you stay in your room for now.”

Kor’s head spins from the newness of everything, and his body still aches with fatigue. He nods dumbly at Bolin’s suggestion.

The servant throws another log on the fire then turns toward the door. “I’ll be back later with some dinner for you, my Lord. If you need anything, simply ring the bell.” He points at a small brass bell on the table near Kor’s bed.

“I’m Kor!” he blurts as Bolin opens the door to leave. “Brother Kor. I am no lord, just an acolyte, and a poor one at that.”

“Brother Kor, eh?” Bolin replies, his eyes thoughtful. “Well, Brother Kor, I hope you enjoy your stay with us. I can assure you there is no wickedness here.”

The door clicks shut behind him. Kor gathers his strength and pushes himself carefully off the bed. His head spins as he moves, and he clutches the bed posts and backs of chairs as he makes his way to the window with slow, careful steps. He finally reaches his destination and peers through the glass (And such glass! He has never seen such expanses of it before…). In the distance he can see the angry gray turbulence of the sea, but closer still a verdant green landscape lays before him. He looks on in wonder, a life spent in the snow and ice had not prepared him for such greenery. The thunderous black clouds of the storm are receding, and hints of a late afternoon sun are starting to peek through the vanishing clouds. A soft rain falls sporadically, darkening the stone and causing the trees to shimmer in the beams of light.

“I always appreciate the view,” comments a voice behind him. “But you really shouldn’t be out of bed.”

Kor whirls to see a silver haired woman standing in the doorway. He had not heard her come in and casts about frantically for something, anything, to cover himself.

“Relax, young man. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before, and your shift covers you from neck to knee. Your virtue is safe enough.”

He blushes furiously as he stares fixedly at the floor, avoiding looking at her. “Who are you?”

“I am Kya. I am a healer here.” She tuts disapprovingly. “As your healer I must insist you get back into bed. You need more rest, young Kor.”

He twitches as he hears her speak his name.

“Yes, Bolin told me. He’s quite concerned about you, you know.”

Kor shuffled his way back towards his bed, determined to make it under his own power. “He is very kind.”

“As kind as they come, and very, very loyal.” Kya’s tone grows sharper. “I know what you are, Brother Kor, and what you are taught to believe. I would advise you to keep your thoughts about women and benders to yourself, lest you get yourself into serious trouble while a guest here.”

Kor finally manages to reach the bed and shudders as he sinks back down onto it, his eyes closing from the effort it took to merely cross the room and back.

“What do you know of me?” he finally manages. “Father Superior says—“

“Is a hateful, evil man and many of the people here under Lady Sato’s protection are from your homeland, escaped here lest they be killed.”

Kor’s eyes snap back open and he glares at her. “Father Superior is a just man intent on ridding the world of evil.”

“Evil as he defines it, you mean, with his decrees saying that all male benders must subject to his rule, and female benders are burned at the stake as heretics.”

“He would never—“ Kor stops as Kya pulls up her dress, revealing the angry burns scars running up her legs. “What happened to you?” he whispers.

“Two brothers, Noatak and Torrlak. Witch hunters, they call themselves.” Her voice drips venom. “They seek out women benders on behalf of your precious Father Superior and kill them. I barely escaped, but others have not been so lucky. Many of us who managed to escape find our way here where we can live peacefully under Lady Sato’s protection, or perhaps to the Fire Nation under the protection of Lord Zuko.” She jerks back Kor’s blankets, ignoring his yelp of protest. She runs her hand along his torso, her fingers pressing here and there, her eyes closed. She tugs the blankets back up for him and turns to the door. “Be sure to eat as much as you can, so you can regain your strength.”

“Lord Zuko?” Kor squeaks. “His troops are always attacking us!”

Kya whirls around. “Yes, you fool, because of the atrocities Unalaq perpetuates on his people The refugees from the Polar Kingdom started as a trickle and are turning into a flood!”

“That’s a lie! Father Superior is a good and holy man!” Kor screams, then curls up from the pain of it.

“Unalaq is a psychotic maniac, but I see he has you under his sway,” Kya says angrily, though her eyes are sad.

Kor forces himself upright, his pride overcoming his discomfort. “You are just a woman, what do you know of anything?” He clamps his jaw shut at the look on her face.

“I know more than I ever wanted to, _Brother Kor_ ,” she says softly, then leaves, the door thudding shut behind her.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kor's still a rude and oblivious git, but a new visitor comes calling...

There is a knock at the door, and Kor looks up. “Yes?”

“Good morning, Brother Kor,” announces Bolin cheerfully. “I have your breakfast.”

A week of good food and Kya’s careful care, and Kor is feeling a lot better. His ribs still ache and he feels weak, but at least he can go from his bed to the window and back with relative ease. His only victory since he arrived at the estate.

Bolin places a tray of food at his table and Kor eases himself down into his chair, automatically bowing his head. “Bless the spirits for this bounty. May they strengthen me and guide my steps.”

“So,” Bolin says, his face showing his nervousness. “I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Kor pauses mid chew. “What is it?”

“Why do you thank the spirits for your food?”

Kor shrugged and resumed eating. “They provide all.”

Bolin screwed up his face in thought. “But, the vegetables in your stew come from the work of the gardeners, and the farmers raise the livestock for our meat, and fishermen work to bring us fish. The bakers get up while its still dark to bake our bread.” He paused. “Spirits don’t live around here.”

“The spirits are everywhere,” Kor replied sharply. “They guide the hands of those who work.”

“Ah, that’s new,” says Kya from the doorway. “He used to say that hard worked honored the spirits, but humans still got the credit for it.”

Kor frowns as the healer approaches but he has given up arguing with her. He keeps his eyes focused on his food. She rarely speaks to him in any case, just checks the progress of his healing and works on where he still has damage.

“Please stand, Brother Kor,” she says. He obeys, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the sensation of her touch.

Finally she steps away. “He has healed enough that no more treatments are required,” she announces. “With any luck, Brother Kor, you will no longer be tortured by my company. Good day, Bolin.”

She walks away and Kor finally opens his eyes as he hears her footsteps fade into the distance. To his surprise, Bolin is looking at him with a sad expression on his face.

“Honestly, she saved your life yet you never say thank you.”

Kor shrugged again. “No thanks should be required for those who do their duty. Father Superior—”

“Father Superior is a man I have come to despise, the more I learn about him,” said a new voice.

Bolin instantly straightens and tugs at Kor’s tunic, urging him to rise. Kor catches a glimpse of a woman’s pale face, with crimson lips and brilliantly green eyes. She wears a red cloak thrown back over her shoulders, and underneath she wears a red and white blouse, open at the neck, over leather breeches and polished knee-high boots. Kor’s eyes drop quickly to the floor. If being in Kya’s presence was blasphemy, seeing this woman surely put his soul in extreme danger.

“My Lady,” Bolin says, stepping forward and bowing. “Allow me?”

Kor hears the scrape of chair legs against the stone floor, and out of the corner of his eye he sees the woman settle herself near the fireplace, Bolin holding her cloak carefully over one arm.

“Please be seated, Brother Kor,” she says, her voice low yet commanding.

He sits back down, but doesn’t take up his spoon. His gaze is fixed on the table top.

“I am Lady Sato,” the woman says. “Your host.”

“You mean your prisoner.” Kor says bitterly. “At least, you seem to think I am the enemy.”

Bolin sputters, his patience finally at an end. “You ungrateful little—“

“Bolin, would you excuse us?”

Kor can’t help himself and looks up in surprise. Bolin is glaring at him, his face red and his jaw clenched.

“My Lady,” he grinds out. “You are not safe with him!”

Lady Sato smiles, her eyes meeting Kor’s for the first time. He shivers at what he sees. This is a dangerous woman, in more ways than one.

“I’ll be fine, Bolin. Trust me.”

He sighs heavily. “With my life, my Lady.”

“I will be taking a walk on the grounds, will you please ask Captain Mako to join us?”

“Yes, my Lady.” With one last frustrated glare at Kor, Bolin departs.

Kor returns his gaze to the tabletop letting his eyes follow the patterns in the wood grain, trying to quell the unease he feels in this woman’s presence. He feels her eyes watching him, and he twitches under her intense scrutiny.

“Do you treat your prisoners this way, Brother Kor?” she asks finally. “With a warm bed and a fire, with plenty of food and a healer for your wounds? The stories I hear must be lies then.”

Kor grits his teeth.

“Oh yes,” she continues. “Everyone must be lying to tell of chains, and darkness, and ravenous hunger. The shrieks of those being tortured that prevent you from sleeping.”

“We must fight evil,” Kor rasps, but he has lost his certainty; he himself has long struggled with this knowledge of what goes on in the dungeons of the Citadel.

Lady Sato pushes herself up from the chair and strides towards the window. “Tell me, Brother Kor. What evil exactly have you been fighting?”

“We must punish those who do not follow the laws.”

“Oh?” says Lady Sato, her voice so soft that Kor has to strain to hear. “And whose laws are those?”

“The laws of the spirits!” Kor cries out. “The law says that bending is a holy gift, and those who are granted it must serve in the Order.”

“But the Order only allows men.”

“Women do not bend,” Kor retorts weakly. “They merely practice witchcraft which is _not_ bending…” He trails off, no longer able to maintain his righteous indignation. His head drops and he takes a deep breath.

“I see,” Lady Sato says gravely. “So the fact that my healer has gotten you back on your feet is a form of witchcraft.”

“I—“

She waves her hand dismissively. “It is of no importance.” She walks back to the door, retrieving her cloak that Bolin had hung on a hook as he departed and settling it back over her shoulders. “Come along, Brother Kor.”

His head snaps up to see her beckoning to him. He blinks in surprise.

“There’s a cloak for you here. You’ll want it. It’s cold outside.”

He nods dumbly and wraps himself in the warm wool she hands him. She keeps her pace deliberately slow, apparently mindful of his limitations. As they exit the house, a tall man in red livery joins them, walking a few paces behind. Kor watches him surreptitiously but he appears intent on scanning their surroundings. He does not bother looking at Kor.

“I would like to tell you a story, Brother Kor,” Lady Sato says eventually, her eyes looking out over the grounds of her estate much as her guard has done. “It is a common one; a man has two sons, and the younger one envies the older’s one luck in birth order. The older son will inherit everything and it’s not fair.” She turns down a flight of steps, waiting courteously at the bottom for him to make his way down. “But despite his best efforts, he is unable to convince his father that his brother is unworthy, that he should be put aside in favor of the younger son.”

Kor pauses to catch his breath. “It is wicked to not accept your role in life.”

Lady Sato raises one eyebrow. “Really? Did your Father Superior tell you that?”

“Of course, he is very wise.” Kor took a deep breath and began walking again, determined to show this woman he was no weakling. “Sometimes it is hard for acolytes who wish for different duties to perform.”

“I see.”

They walk along a path that winds its way through towards the sea. Ahead Kor can make out what appears to be a breakwater, waves dashing themselves to froth against it. Small wooden fishing boats rock in the protected water behind it, painted in bright colors and their white sales furled while at anchor. On the beach around a large bonfire across he sees figures bent over fishing nets, mending the tears.

Kor gasps as he recognizes some of the symbols painted on the hulls. “Polar Kingdom,” he breathes.

“Ah yes, the fishing boats have returned already. They must have gotten a good catch last night,” Lady Sato comments. Then she glances at him, her face still expressionless. “Unalaq is your uncle, is he not?”

Kor stops dead and stares at her. “How did you know that?” he whispers. “I was told never to tell. He said it was dangerous for people to know.”

“No doubt.” She gestures for him to keep walking. “Truth always wants to be free, Brother Kor,” she says easily. “Despite how many might try to hide it.”

They are now walking along a raised wooden pathway that leads to shore. Some of the figures have seen their approach and risen in respect at the sight of Lady Sato.

“A good haul last night, my Lady,” calls one of the men cheerfully.

A woman near him laughs. “Aye, we’ll set a good table for you tonight!”

“Well done, my friends,” Lady Sato said, her voice warm with affection. “I look forward to it.”

“Do you have a helper for us, my Lady?” calls another man, looking at Kor with a confused expression. His head is cocked as if he’s trying to place where he’s seen Kor before.

Lady Sato steps closer, bringing Kor with her. “In a way,” she replies. “Someone perhaps you used to know.”

Kor is returning the man’s stare, taking in the bright blue eyes in a weathered face, the high forehead, broad shoulders, and strong chin with just a hint of a dimple.

The man’s hands start to tremble violently the more he looks at Kor. “Oh my blessed spirits,” he whispers. He looks beseechingly at Lady Sato. “Is that—“ He turns, and crosses over to grab Kor by both shoulders. “Kor? Is that you?”

Kor’s ears are ringing and he feels faint. He can’t tear his eyes away from this stranger who seems so familiar. “Papa?”

“I think we found him, Tonraq,” he hears Lady Sato say from behind him as his vision starts to swirl. “I think the spirits brought him to us.”

Kor falls into darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy folks, another chapter for your enjoyment. Thanks so much for the comments and words of encouragement, it means a ton.
> 
> Enjoy!

Kor’s head throbs as he becomes aware of voices nearby.

“—increase in patrols.”

“Aye, my Lady. The new catapults have worked perfectly to keep them away from us. Thank you again.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

“You know I no longer have any right to that title.”

“Perhaps again, soon.”

There’s a long pause as Kor struggles to open his eyes. As he swims towards consciousness his stomach roils and he finds himself slumped sideways, retching into the damp sand.

A warm hand rubs his back. “It’s alright, son. You’re alright.”

Kor groans as he sits back. A cup is pressed against his lips and he swallows the cool water gratefully.

“Small sips, Brother Kor,” he’s advised.

When he opens his eyes he’s sees Lady Sato kneeling before him, the strangely familiar man next to her. The other fishermen are clustered around them, their faces ds.

“Who are you?” Kor rasps finally, staring at the man.

“My name is Tonraq,” the man replies.

Kor gasps. “My… father?”

Tonraq smiles broadly, his hand gripping Kor’s shoulder. “Oh my son, I have waited _years_ for this moment!”

“But,” Kor begins slowly, his stomach starting to churn once again. “Father Superior said my father was dead, executed for treason!”

“As you can see, I’m no corpse,” said Tonraq, his grin unabated. “And I have no doubt Unalaq has said a great many things, very few of them true.”

“That’s a lie!” Kor shouts, and they are taken aback by his sudden fury. “Father Superior is a holy and righteous man. You are not my father! My father is dead, a traitor and heretic!” He staggers to his feet, pushing everyone away. “This is a trick!”

Tonraq moves towards him but stops as he feels Lady Sato’s hand on his arm. She shakes her head and he sighs.

“Kor,” he says slowly, his face intent. “Look at me, son. I am no trick. The trick was in the lies your uncle fed you.”

“I don’t believe you,” Kor grinds out. His gaze focuses on Lady Sato and his eyes narrow in anger. “You’re a witch, aren’t you?” he demands in a rage. “You’ve done something to me!” He whirls to his feet, his hands rising as he stands. He bends a bloom of fire straight at her but to his shock she neatly rolls under the flames, then knocks his legs out from under him with a quick sweep of her leg. A moment later he feels the prick of a knife point under his chin and she smirks at him over the hilt of her dagger, one eyebrow raised in challenge. Slowly his eyes drop under her hard gaze and his legs and hands start trembling as the adrenaline drains from his body.

“My Lady,” pleads Tonraq, his voice breaking.

“You have a lot to learn, Brother Kor,” she says softly. She looks over her shoulder. “Captain Mako, please escort him back to his room. Gently, please.”

Mako’s face is angry but he says nothing, merely offers her a quick bow then firmly grips Kor’s arm, half holding him and half ensuring he causes no trouble.

“Try anything and I will not be nearly as gentle as our Lady,” he growls and Kor nods, his face now miserable. His brain is whirling with confused thoughts and he blindly follows Mako back to the manor house.

_I attacked a woman!_

_But she’s a witch! She has to be!_

_She didn’t even respond with witchcraft._

_That man can’t be my father. My father is dead._

_To doubt Father Superior is a sin._

_Oh Spirits, what am I to do?_

_What am I to believe?_

                                                                                                    

                                                                                                    

Bolin does not bring him his meals; he hadn’t seen the man since the morning. Kor assumes he is still angry and finds himself missing his cheerful company. His midday meal is brought by another man who doesn’t speak, merely sets a tray of bread, cheese and meat down at the table near the fireplace and departs. Captain Mako had held the door for him, apparently now stationed at Kor’s room. At the thought of that Kor’s mouth turns down. He apparently now was more of a prisoner than before, despite Bolin and that woman’s assurances to the contrary.

He had slept most of the afternoon away and now paced his room, restless and hungry. However, no one new had shown up to his room bearing his evening meal and he was getting hungrier. He glares at the door of his room, but it stays closed.

“If I am no prisoner then I may go search for food,” he declares to himself and makes his way to the door. He stands for a moment, listening, but hears nothing. Finally he steels himself and opens the door, peering into the corridor. Across the hall Captain Mako sits on a wooden chair, his feet propped on a nearby window sill. A small loaf of bread stuffed with cheese sits half-eaten in his hand, and he looks at Kor with disdain.

“Am I to be starved now?” Kor demanded.

Mako rolls his eyes and wraps the remains of his food in a handkerchief before standing to face Kor. “No, you little git, you are now expected to join everyone else in the hall if you wish to eat.”

“No one told me this.”

“You don’t seem very receptive to anything anyone says,” Mako retorted. “So I decided to just let you sit there until you were done pouting.”

With that he turned on his heel and gestured for Kor to follow him down the corridor.

“I wasn’t pouting!”

Mako shrugs. “Whatever. I certainly had better things to do today then keep an eye on you but I wasn’t going to subject any of my soldiers to your tantrums, so here we are.” He pauses before large wooden double doors and glares at Kor. “I will tell you one thing though, you so much as bend water out of the pitcher into your cup and you’ll be full of arrows. I will tolerate no aggression in my Lady’s hall and you have lost the right to bend in this house.” He steps closer. “And if I hear you call her a witch again, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born,” he growls, his eyes burning. “Do I make myself clear?”

Kor has no doubt he means what he says and nods, swallowing hard. “Perfectly.”

Mako nods curtly to the guards on either side of the doors and they pull them open. Before them stretches a huge hall filled with people eating, talking, laughing. Kor was flabbergasted by such a raucous display; at the Citadel acolytes were not allowed to speak during meals unless spoken to by Father Superior, or sometimes his Inquisitors. Mako gestures at a nearby bench and Kor sinks down, casting nervous glances at the other people at the table. A serving girl hurries over and places a steaming bowl of stew in front of him.

“Welcome lad,” booms an old man sitting across from him as he passes over a basket of bread. “Eat up while it’s hot!”

“Thank you,” Kor says, ducking his head shyly. Then, as is his habit, he bows his head. “Bless the spirits for this bounty. May they strengthen me and guide my steps.” He dunks a piece of bread into the stew, then looks around the table as he realizes everyone has fallen silent and is staring at him. The old man is sitting back with his arms crossed, glaring at him.

“You are in the Order,” he says flatly.

“I am an acolyte of the White Lotus, yes,” Kor replies. Without another word the man pushes back from the table and stalks off, leaving Kor staring behind him. “I don’t understand.”

“Most of his family was slaughtered by the White Lotus,” says the woman sitting next to him, her weathered face stern though she had many laugh lines around her eyes and mouth. “Only he and his youngest daughter survived, and she lost her sight.”

Kor swallows hard and places the piece of bread uneaten onto the table. He opens his mouth to ask what the man’s crime was and realizes that isn’t the question he really should be asking. Instead he takes in the woman’s appearance more closely; her clothes are clean but worn, and her hands are calloused. She is clearly used to hard work, yet she sits here comfortably in the hall of a noblewoman and she is clearly unafraid to speak her mind. Kor is at first surprised by her boldness, but quickly realizes until recently he’s hardly ever spoken to _any_ woman, they are so anathema in Father Superior’s view of the world. Certainly Lady Sato showed no hesitation in expressing herself either.

“My name is Kor,” he says suddenly, bowing his head to her. “I am new here.”

She nods. “I know who you are, Brother Kor,” she replies, her tone neutral as she watches him. “I am Katara.”

Kor pauses to take a bite of stew. It was hot and filling, and reminded him of his hunger. After a few mouthfuls, he raises his eyes to her again a little sheepishly. There was something about this woman that was familiar and he finally realizes what it is. “Do you know a healer named Kya?”

Katara nods, still watching him. “She is my daughter.”

“Oh.” Kor blushes furiously. “Of course she is.” At Katara’s raised eyebrow, he explains, “She has the look of you.” He picks up the bread and tears it in half pensively. “I’m sure she told you I am an insufferable fool.”

Katara allows a small smile to appear. “Something like that.”

Kor’s shoulders slump. “Did you—“ Kor pauses, struggling to articulate his next question.

Katara waits patiently, still watching him.

“Did I what, Kor?” she prompts him eventually.

Kor looks up at her, a lump in the pit of his stomach. “Did you also suffer because of the White Lotus?”

Katara looks around the hall, the smile slipping from her face. After a moment she sighs.

“My boy, everyone in this hall has lost something or someone to the White Lotus, including me. Unalaq’s reign of terror knows no bounds these days.”

The lump in Kor’s stomach now burns with dread and guilt and he’s noticing the surreptitious, and not so surreptitious, glances of hostility coming from many tables. No longer able to meet Katara’s gaze he re-focuses on his bowl of stew but his hunger has left him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “For everything.”

“Master Katara,” greets Lady Sato from behind him. “I see you’ve met our wayward acolyte.”

Kor’s head jerks up in surprise at the sound of her voice.

The woman rises to her feet and bows. “My Lady.” She glances at Kor, still sitting silent and awkward on the bench. With a sigh, she reaches out and deftly captures his ear. “We are not as formal as most houses, Brother Kor, but we still rise in the presence of our Lady.”

Kor sputters an apology and hastily rises to his feet.

“Are you sure you’re up for this, Master Katara?” Asami asks, her eyes still on Kor.

“He will be no trouble, my Lady,” Katara assures her. “Between the two of us, we will keep him from trouble.”

Lady Sato nods, smiling. “Send word if you need anything.”

“I will, Lady.”

“Well, Brother Kor,” said Lady Sato, continuing to hold his gaze, her own eyes twinkling. “Until we meet again.”

“Where are you going?” He catches Katara glaring at him and grudgingly adds, “My Lady.”

“I? Nowhere,” she laughs. “You however—“ She trails off, then grins impishly at him. “Have a pleasant journey.”

His jaw drops as she saunters away. Beyond her he sees the man called Tonraq watching him intently, his face wistful. She approaches him and places one hand on his arm while she speaks to him. He nods, his eyes not leaving Kor, then finally his shoulders slump and he turns and trails her out of the hall. Kor takes a half step forward as if to follow, then jumps as he feels a sharp poke in his back.

“Come along, Brother Kor,” says Katara in a tone that leaves no room for discussion. “You’re coming with me, my lad.”

He reluctantly turns back to her. “Where are we going?”

“To pray for your sinful soul.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking forward to the next chapter - will be my first foray using a very awesome character!
> 
> :)
> 
> See you next time!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Kor continues to have his world view hit with bricks, and he makes a new acquaintance...
> 
> Thanks for the reviews! I suspect not everybody is totally down with the premise of this one, but I'm still finding it an interesting idea to explore. Anyway, enjoy!

“Come along, boy,” Katara calls, her tone mocking. “You’re giving a poor accounting of yourself if you can’t keep up with this old woman.”

Kor grits his teeth and struggles along. They’ve been following a narrow track through dense forest for hours. On his back is a bag with extra clothes and some food for the journey, and normally he would have borne his burden with little trouble. However, every root or stone in the path seems to trip him, and every branch smacks his face or catches on his clothes. Katara is wearing a similar pack but bears her load far more comfortably, trotting down the trail with insufferable ease. Periodically he hears rustling in the surrounding trees, or the quiet chirps and screeches of the birds. At one point they pass through a clearing split by a small stream, and he pauses to watch in awe as a magnificent hawk swoops low over the grass and snatches a small rodent while on the wing before soaring away. He stares after it wistfully.

“It’s so beautiful,” he says softly.

“My brother used to have one of those birds, ran messages for him sometimes,” said Katara as she also watched the bird retreat. “Named him Hawky..”

Kor raised one eyebrow.

“My brother was not known for his poetic abilities,” Katara says, her voice dry. “Here, sit. We may as well stop here for lunch.”

Kor pulls bread, cheese and dried meat from his bag and shares them with Katara. After a few moments while they ate in silence, he turns to her. “So where are we going?”

“My home,” she says simply. “It’s only another two hours away.”

“So far from the estate,” he frowns. “Surely you don’t walk this distance every day.”

“No, boy,” Katara chuckles. “I stay at the estate most of the time. But I do have another home and I’m there at least once a month.”

He chews for a while. “Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why suffer such hardship? A mere woman living alone far from safety…”

He stops and stares as the older woman collapses to the ground, convulsed with laughter. “Oh, oh, oh, my boy,” she gasps finally. “Unalaq has done you more of a disservice than I feared.”

Kor feels his face grow hot. “Father Superior instructs us that women are fragile and capricious creatures who must be guided to their true destiny of bearing future generations—what is so amusing to you?” he demands irritably as Katara howls once more with glee.

Tears of mirth roll down her cheeks as she struggles to catch her breath. “Your precious Father Superior would do well to remember he has been beaten soundly by many women,” she eventually chokes out. “Fragile and capricious, indeed.” She raises one eyebrow at him in challenge then whirls her hands as she bends the stream’s water into a magnificent dragon with wings spread and jaws agape before allowing it to dissolve gently back down. “Do I look fragile to you?”

Kor stares at her. “How did you do that — women can’t do that! And Father Superior could never be beaten by anyone! He is our most powerful, strengthened by the spirits!” He starts to sputter. “His hand is strengthened by their holy will, we can only—“

“Stop, stop, stop,” Katara stands, and regards him with a pained look. “He is a man, like any other man. I taught him a lesson myself when he attempted to force himself on your mother in a drunken rage. I wrapped him in ice and set him afloat in the bay to teach him a lesson.” Her expression hardens at the memory. “If I had known then what I know now, I can assure you I would done something more permanent. Now come on, you have a lot of unlearning to do.”

Kor’s jaw hangs open as he stares at her. He can’t summon a coherent thought to even demand an explanation of her words. Instead he shakes his head and shoulders his pack, his mind awhirl.

“Don’t you mean I have a lot of learning to do?” He can just see her striding quickly up the trail ahead but her reply carries back to him easily enough.

“No, unlearning. You’ve learned quite enough already. Too much, I think.”

                                                                                                    

“You’re late,” comes a soft growl from behind them. Kor whirls, but sees no one there.

Katara merely shrugs and continues walking. “My companion is having a hard day.”

“Should have left him for the wolves to chase. It would have made him move faster.”

Kor finds himself stepping closer to Katara. He blushes as he realizes he’s unconsciously sought out a _woman’s_ protection, but to his immense relief she makes no indication that she’s noticed. Ahead of them he sees another clearing through the trees, and he gasps as they finally emerge from the closeness of the forest. Before him a large lake lies peacefully under the afternoon sky. In the middle of the lake he sees an island with high cliffs, and what appears to be a house on top, smoke curling lazily from its chimney.

“Welcome to our home, Brother Kor,” Katara says, looking at him with a steady gaze.

A derisive snort sounds behind him again and as he turns now he sees her, a small woman in tattered green and brown robes. Despite the cloudiness of her eyes he feels her gaze piercing him to his core. “Who are you?”

She cackles at she trots over to Katara, ignoring him completely. “I’m hungry, take us over.”

“You didn’t have to wait for us you know,” Katara commented.

“You just wanted me to do all the cooking.”

Now it’s Katara’s turn to snort. “You never cook, and thank the spirits for that. I’d rather the house didn’t burn down again.”

“Once! That happened once!”

“Once is enough, don’t you think, Toph?” Katara doesn’t wait for an answer, merely slides her hands through the air, freezing a section of lake into a small ice platform. The woman, Toph, immediately jumps on and bounces up and down on her toes with impatience. Katara joins her then turns to face the now pale and shaking acolyte.

“Come along, Brother Kor.”

Kor is speechless. This was no witchcraft or trickery, but bending in its purest form — what Father Superior had said was impossible. He takes a tentative step onto the ice, then sighs in relief as he feels its sturdy thickness under his boots.

“Push us over, Brother Kor?” Katara smiles at him, and he suddenly smiles back and bends a vortex against the ice, pushing them along with increasing speed. He has not done this since he was a child and it feels good to do so now.

Toph whoops with glee, her face turned up towards the sky, clearly loving the feel of the wind against her face. Before long Kor slows the vortex down, letting the ice bump gently against the island’s rocky shore. They step off and Kor looks around in confusion, not seeing a way up. Then he gasps as Toph gestures negligently with her hand and the three of them are lifted on a column of stone to the top of the cliff. Once at the top Toph runs off towards the house without a word, leaving Kor staring as the stone column sinks back down to the shore with a soft grumble. Katara watches him silently, a hint of a smile on her face as she notices him straightening his shoulders and taking a deep breath of resolve.

“An earth bender,” he says. He raises his eyes to meet hers. “And a water bender. Not witches.”

She nods, still saying nothing.

He clenches his fists, then reaches under his tunic and draws out his most prized possession; a carved stone lotus stone that is a symbol of his order, until now the very center of his existence. He looks at it for a long moment, then turns and throws it as hard as he can out over the lake. It disappears with a faint _plop_ as he turns back to her. His face shows fear, but also determination.

“Unlearning.”

“Yes, my boy. Lots of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna have some fun with Toph, methinks.
> 
> :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kor's next teacher is revealed...

Kor looks around in a daze. The interior of the little house is scrupulously neat, well lit, and warm. Small sleeping alcoves branch off from the main room which is open and airy. A well appointed kitchen is tucked in one corner, a small hand pump and sink sitting next to a well scrubbed wooden counter, and bunches of dried herbs, cheeses, and meats hang from the ceiling. A large fireplace with an iron cooking hook sits opposite, and in between the two is a low table with seating cushions. At one end of the table, a beautiful Pai Sho board holds a game in progress. Kor looks over it curiously. 

“Do you play?”

He looks up to see Katara smiling at him from the kitchen where she is preparing stew and boiling water for tea.

“Not really.” He touches one tile then steps away. “Father Superior had one is his office but I never saw anyone play it.” He shrugs. “We were discouraged from such things.”

“Naturally.” 

He accepts a cup of tea from her with a mumble of thanks, then sits as she gestures him to a nearby cushion.

“Who is playing?” He points at the board, curious.

“Myself and Lady Sato.”

Kor blinks, then mentally curses himself when he feels his cheeks heat up. “She comes here?”

Katara sips her tea. “Not as often as either of us would like, but as you can imagine she has many responsibilities. Too many, if you ask me.”

“She is so beautiful,” Kor hurriedly drops his gaze to his tea cup at Katara’s amused glance. “How is it she—“ He pauses, not sure how to continue.

“How is it there’s no man in her place, you mean,” Katara says, without rancor.

Kor nods awkwardly. “Perhaps.”

“She is the only child of Lord Hiroshi Sato, a trusted advisor of Fire Lord Zuko.” Katara focuses on him, her expression serious. “Lady Sato’s genius was recognized when she was a still a child, and she has been entrusted with the governance of these lands in order to provide sanctuary for refugees from the Polar Kingdom as well as provide a front line defense against any incursions from Unalaq’s troops.”

“A woman?” Kor can’t help himself.

Katara smiles grimly. “Yes, a woman who was able to resurrect an abandoned estate and make it the most profitable in three Kingdoms, able to support far more people than any thought possible because of her inventions in farming and water management. A woman who has founded free schools so that all children may learn, and who has designed such wondrous weapons that a dozen of your father’s fishing boats easily held off a fleet of Polar Kingdom warships last year.”

Kor’s hands start shaking, and he carefully places his cup on the table. “My father is truly alive?”

“Yes, my boy,” Katara replies, still watching him closely. “And he has been trying to find you for ten long years.”

Kor’s eyes sting and he rubs them impatiently. “I should not disbelieve you. I know in my heart that you have told me no falsehoods, but sometimes it’s hard to forget what I’ve been taught.”

“Your uncle has many reasons to keep truth from you.”

“But why?” Kor bursts out. “Why would he lie about my father? About me?” His fists clench. “Has he lied about the spirits too? I have never seen them. He says only the most worthy will be so blessed, but now I fear my faith in them is another falsehood.”

Katara stares at him for a long moment, then starts to laugh, shaking her head. “Oh, that man,” she sighs, still chortling as Kor gapes at her. “He truly has no shame. Come with me, my boy.” She leads him from the house. The sunlight peeks through the trees surrounding the house, leaving a dappled glow on the ground. Birds and squirrels flitter through the branches, and above them they hear the lonely cry of a hawk.

“It is beautiful here,” Kor tells Katara as they make their way along along a narrow path.

Katara smiles back at him. “That it is, Kor. It’s a truly unique place, as I will show you.” The path descends into a deep gully and as they round a bend in the trail Kor sees the mouth of a cave ahead of them, a soft glow emanating from within the dark rock. Katara continues walking unconcerned, even as her companion starts slowing down with apprehension. He feels a tingling start to spread all over his body that increases the closer he gets. His footsteps continue to slow until finally he stops in the entrance of the cave. The light is emanating from further inside the cave; Kor strains but can’t see where it comes from. 

Katara places one hand on his shoulder, a smile ghosting across her lips. “Go in there, Brother Kor. There’s something you need to see.”

“What will I find?” he whispers, his eyes searching hers.

“The truth.”

“Will you come with me?”

She shakes her head. “It’s better if I don’t, I think. There’s nothing to fear, and there will be someone waiting to meet you. Someone you can trust.” 

Kor peers back into the cave then squares his shoulders. “Okay.”

As he walks deeper into the cave, she hears him call out behind him.

“The truth can be a burden, Kor, but if you have the strength to embrace it you will find your true destiny.”

Kor looks over his shoulder, but the light around him has grown such that he can no longer see her. It’s as if the light is a living thing, swirling white and silver and gold, swooping and curling around him, increasing in velocity until he can no longer keep his eyes against the bright glare. The tingles in skin increase until it feels as if he is on fire and he cries out in pain and fear.

Then it’s gone.

Slowly, painfully, he opens his eyes. He’s on his knees in a meadow of blue grass. Huge flowers, large as any tree, tower around him. The air is sweet and fresh, and he takes a deep breath, reveling in how good it feels in his lungs. Then his eyes widens as he seems them — they can only be spirits, running, jumping, flying, everywhere he looks. The squeak and chirrup and rumble to each other, and to his delight and alarm he sees the approaching him. He quickly prostrates himself and after a moment he feels their touches all over him, tugging at his clothes, his hair, his hands. Eventually he realizes the touches are urging him up and he stands, nervous and awestruck in the presence of beings he was taught to worship. They continue to chitter excitedly and press against his legs, land on his shoulders, circle his head.

“Gently, my friends,” comes a voice behind him. “Don’t overwhelm him now.”

Kor turns, careful not to step on or dislodge any of the creatures around him. Before him stands a stout old man with a huge smile and holding a cup of tea. A few more spirits lounge casually against him. Beyond him Kor can now make out a low building with chairs and tables set out on a small patio in front, smoke lazily rising from the chimney. He can just make out the sign over the door: The Jasmine Dragon.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kor meets another new friend, who's maybe an old friend?

“Where am I,” Kor breathes, still looking around in shock.

“You’re in the spirit world, boy.” The man beckons with a smile. “I'm Iroh. Now come. You look like you could use a nice cup of tea.”

Kor stumbles after him, his mind still trying to comprehend his surroundings. Iroh guides him into a chair and hurries off, mumbling to himself. He returns with a small ceramic cup and presses it into Kor’s hand.

“Drink up!”

Kor sips his tea, his eyes flickering between the different spirits scampering around the table he sat. Another group swirls around his head, periodically swooping down to touch his shoulder or head or hand before launching away again. Larger spirits perch watchfully from the surrounding trees. Nearby Iroh fusses with a tray of food, occasionally batting a curious spirit away if they got too close.

“They’re very happy to see you,” Iron comments. “They’ve been waiting a long time.”

“Why?” Kor asks, shying away as a larger spirit attempt to sit on his head.

Iroh cocks an eyebrow at him. “Do you not know who you are?”

“I am Kor, acolyte of the Order of the White Lotus, servant to the law of the spirits.”

Iroh starts to choke, then cough, then sputter, before finally letting loose with a great bellow of laughter that causes the spirits around them to chirrup excitedly. “Unalaq told you this, boy?” Iron shakes his head. “Tell me this, boy. Can you bend water?”

Kor nods, not speaking.

“And earth?”

Another nod.

“How about fire?”

Kor drops his head, ashamed. “I do bend fire, but it is a sin. When I bent fire at the citadel I was punished.” Kor swallows, and his voice is almost inaudible. “I bent fire at Lady Sato in a fit of rage.”

Iroh laughed again. “I’m sure she showed you the error of her ways.”

“She—“ Kor stops and rubs his neck sheepishly. “She is formidable.”

“How about air, boy? Can you bend air?”

Kor’s eyes widen. “I have not heard of this! How can this be done?”

Iroh ignores this. “Tell me, boy. Does anyone else in the order bend more than one element?”

Kor shakes his head. “Father Superior says those who bend more than one element are blessed and are called home to the spirits once they have proven themselves worthy.” He swirls the tea in his cup. “So far I have failed.” His face is miserable.

Again Iroh bursts out with laughter and pounds his fist on the table with uncontrolled mirth, sending the tea cups flying. He leaps up and pulls Kor after him. “Come with me, boy. There’s someplace you need to be.” He strides off with Kor scrambling to keep up in his wake. The spirits follow along behind them, like a long train of follow-the-leader. After a few moments, Iroh reaches out and grabs Kor’s arm.

“Hang on, boy.”

Around them the world seems to blur, as if they were traveling at great speeds. Trees and boulders flash past them, and Kor clenches his eyes shut as his stomach starts to roil.

“We’re here, boy.”

Kor cautiously opens his eyes. Before him stands a huge, gnarled tree. Near the base, a gap is visible between two huge roots. Kor feels the tingling in his body return with greater strength, and an almost uncontrollable desire to enter those dark depths. “What is this place,” he whispers.

Iron stands with his arms crossed, and his eyes unreadable. “The Tree of Time. In there lies your truth, if you have the strength to face it.”

“Katara says I must unlearn what I have learned,” Kor replies, glancing at the old man before returning his inspection of the tree.

Iroh grunts, then claps Kor on the back. “Many have discovered that it’s wise never to doubt her,” Iroh agrees. He grins before adding, “And with the drivel Unalaq has apparently been feeding you, I have to agree.” This his face grows serious again. “Go, boy. You need to know the truth. The _world_ needs you to know the truth.”

 

Inside the tree it was cool and dark. Kor follows the curve of a mighty root deeper into the earth until he reaches a small chamber. Leaves carpet the floor, and faint blooms of light from luminescent mushrooms cast an ethereal glow. As he steps with some trepidation into the center of the chamber the glow appears to grow brighter, taking on a golden hue. He blinks, finding himself standing on a small flat plateau of rock. Around the plateau he can only see swirling mists and fog, and he strains to see any evidence of the tree he had just been inside of. Above him the sky is slate gray and he shivers in the growing chill.

“I look to thee to guide me, O Spirits,” Kor mutters as he looks for some clue as to where he is, falling back into old habits in the face of an incomprehensible circumstance.

Behind him a deep voice intones, “In fact, it is the spirits who look to _you_ to guide them.”

Kor whirls around. Before him stands a man in flowing red and gold robes. He is bald and blue tattoos in the shape of arrows adorn his head and hands. He sits cross-legged about four feet above the surface of the plateau and watches Kor with an amused expression.

Kor gapes at the gap between the floating man and the unyielding stone. “Who _are_ you?”

“Do you truly not know me, son of Tonraq?”

Kor’s eyes narrow. “How do you know of me?” he demands.

“I _am_ you,” the man replies. He whirls gracefully, and from his hands streams of fire and water wrap around Kor, followed by a groaning and creaking under his feet as three pillars of earth rise between them, one larger one in between two smaller ones. Finally, with one last swirl of his hands, the man calls forth a strong breeze, blowing away the dust from the newly formed rock formations.

“Please sit,” the man indicates courteously. “And to answer your question more specifically, I am Aang.”


	8. Chapter 8

Kor sits down hesitantly, staring hard at the man across from him. “I have never seen another who could bend more than one element.”

Aang smiles. “Of course not. There is only one Avatar per generation.”

The young acolyte blinks in confusion. “So, you are saying the spirits will not call me home?”

“They already have welcomed you,” the man replies, gesturing around at the spirits hovering around them. “They know who you are and are drawn to you. But it does not mean what Unalaq implied.”

Kor reached out a tentative finger to touch one small spirit squatting on the table. It chirruped happily and ran up his arm to perch on his shoulder.

“Spirits are another form of being, that live in their own world. The Avatar’s role is to keep the balance between the spirit world and the human, and to keep balance between the different kingdoms in the human world.”

“But—“

“Unalaq has subverted the Avatar cycle. He has succumbed to his ambition and turned into a power hungry tyrant.” Aang’s voice is stern, and he stares intently at Kor. “By keeping you isolated he hoped to prevent you from stopping him.”

“Why not just kill me outright?” Kor demands. “Why merely keep me a fool.”

Aang sits back and steeples his fingers, his gaze softening. “Twofold. One, he must grow his power base. The Polar Kingdoms alone cannot overcome the world, and you are a useful hostage to hold should he be threatened. Secondly, should you die, the Avatar’s spirit is reincarnated, and the new incarnation would be a threat to him.”

Kor slowly rises to his feet, and the little spirit leaps clear in alarm. “So you are dead? And then I was born and became you?”

Aang eyes the darkening sky before returning his attention to the acolyte. “Yes, and no. When I died the spirit of Raava left me and came to you when you were born, to the rightful heir of the Polar Kingdoms before you uncle overthrew him through bribery and deception.” Aang scowls. “The Order of the White Lotus was created to protect the Avatars, and he perverted it to his own ends.” He stands, his robes swirling in the growing wind. “A stolen kingdom, and a stolen order. Now Unalaq tries to take over the world, overthrowing a balance the Avatars have tried to maintain for ten thousand years.”

Kor’s gaze is fixed on Aang’s pacing form. His heart pounds and his chest tightens as he feels the truth of Aang’s words. Then his head jerks as he’s struck from behind. He whirls and sees a heavily made up woman, taller than Aang, her arm retreating from where she has slapped his back with a gold fan.

“You have work to do, boy,” she cries. “The world cries out for balance, and justice.” Her voice ends on a low growl, and her eyes flash.

“Give him time, Kyoshi,” a deep voice advises from another direction, and Kor whirls and flinches when he sees an old man in the dress of a Fire Lord noble.

“He has no time, Roku,” the woman, Kyoshi, retorts. “Even now the Polar warships prepare to sail and the drums beat for war.”

“I am not the Avatar!” screams Kor, holding his hands out before him. “I cannot air bend and I am a poor student of fire and earth. Father Superior despaired of my ever achieving true mastery.” He falls to his knees, his head pounding. “I am a mere acolyte, I am no one.” His uncle’s words burn through his memory and he starts to gasp in growing hysteria. “I am weak, a poor orphan. I am indebted to my uncle for his care. I owe him my life and my obedience.”

There’s a rumble like thunder, and wind whips across the plateau.

“Rise, son of Tonraq,” a new voice commands sternly. “It is unseemly for you to grovel on the ground.”

The heavy thump of booted feet approaches, and Kor feels a hand haul him roughly to his feet. Before him stands a large man of the Polar kingdom, a bear’s headdress covering his head and shoulders. His eyes are intent upon Kor’s. “It is time for you to know yourself and what you are, that you may fulfill your destiny.”

“Who are you?” Kor whispers.

“I am Kuruk, of the North.” He turns and gestures to the other three figures, standing silently near them. “And you are not Brother Kor, poor acolyte of the Order of the White Lotus.” He leans in, his fingers curled in Kor’s tunic and his voice now nearly a snarl. “You are Korraq, son of Tonraq, Prince of the Polar Kingdoms and Avatar of the world!” Suddenly he shoves Kor back and the younger man stumbles before catching himself in a defensive stance.

“Now, Korraq who would be Prince and Avatar,” Kyoshi purrs as she raises her fans. “Time for your lessons!”

 

* * *

 

Katara looks up at the sky, angry grey with streaks of lightening that flash ominously. She shakes her head at Iroh’s offer of more tea.

“No thank you, old friend,” she winces at a particularly loud explosion, and a flash of fear crosses her face.

“They’re not going to harm him, you know,” Iroh regards her, then sighs and sets his cup down on his table and pushes himself to his feet. “Come along.”

“You’re not serious?” Katara stares at him.

“I will admit to a modicum of curiosity.” He turns and whistles as Katara rises to her feet. “Besides, Roku has not been to visit Fang in a while and the poor beast is starting to get a little bored.”

With a great woosh of air a glowing blue dragon comes to rest next to Iroh. The old man reaches up to pat him affectionately on the shoulder as the huge muzzle rubs against him affectionally. He helps Katara up before settling himself comfortably.

“Let’s go see how the training is going, shall we?”

With a soft cluck the big dragon rose with his two passengers and flew up and over the spirit world. The ground below them blurs as Fang navigates the paths of the spirit world in ways few can, and finally they emerge from a low rise of hills out onto a mist covered plain. Before them, Aang’s plateau stands tall and menacing, four figures twirling atop it with flashes of flame, swirls of water, the crash of boulders, and the howl of wind vortexes all bending their way towards the struggling figure in the center, barely able to fend off the ceaseless attacks. As Fang starts a slow orbit above them, Katara sees Kor suddenly straighten, his movements becoming stronger, his steps more sure. Slowly, he begins to respond in kind, the elements bending more fluidly under his control until finally with a shout he punches a blast of air that catches Aang and Roku and flings them off the edge. Aang floats them back up and holds up his hand, and everyone relaxes.

“He has bent air,” rumbles Kurik. “And his water is strong.”

Roku pats down a few smoldering spots on his robes. “He has the dragon’s touch. His fire is strong.”

“He may yet survive,” Kyoshi admits grudgingly. “His earth is strong.”

Fang back flaps onto the edge of the plateau and Iroh and Katara climb down. Aang engulfs the small woman in a warm embrace. “My love,” he murmurs. “We return him to your care. He will come into his birthright under the tutelage of you and the others.”

Kor starts at the realization that Katara was married to his predecessor, former life? He shakes his head, exhausted and overwhelmed, then humbled by the obvious affection between the two.

“I miss you,” Katara says simply, looking up at the tattooed airbender.

“And I you.”

Eventually they separate, and Iroh rests a comforting hand on Katara’s shoulder. Aang moves to stand with Roku, Kuruk, and Kyoshi, and they all bow to Kor. He flushes and bows back.

“Thank you for your instruction,” he stammers. “I am in your debt.”

“Your debt is to the world, Korraq,” replies Kuruk is his deep gravelly voice. “You will spend your life in its service.”

Roku looks at him intently. “You must restore the balance of the kingdoms to bring peace.”

“You must bring justice to those who threaten that peace,” adds Kyoshi, her expression still fierce.

Aang’s tattoos begin to glow, and the four start to fade, their forms slowly becoming more indistinct, hazy.

“You will come into your own, Korraq,” Aang says, his voice quiet yet somehow echoing in Kor’s ears. “When you do you will find the strength to achieve what you must.”

And then they are gone. Fang snorts

Kor turns to see tears streaming down Katara’s face, Iroh’s arm now firmly wrapped around her shoulders. However when she speaks, her voice is steady.

“Have you learned what you needed to learn in this place, Brother Kor?”

“I am Brother no longer, Master Katara,” he replies. “And I don’t know that I’ve learned everything I’ve needed to, but I have learned as much as I can.”

Katara watches him carefully, then smiles and nods in satisfaction. “More than one lesson has been learned, then.”

Iroh chuckles. “A day well spent, then. Come,” he gestures towards Fang. “Time to get you both home.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Again!” Toph shouts.

Kor dives to one side, rolls smoothly to his feet and bends a boulder to deflect the one incoming from the old blind earth bender. He feels the air pressure change behind him in time to flip out of the way of a stream of water Katara has attempted to snake around him.

Out of nowhere an air punch blows him backwards but he manages to cushion his landing against a nearby tree before landing gracefully back on the ground. He spies Katara’s son Tenzin nearby giving him a gentle smile. He arrived at the little house on the island a few weeks ago and has been patiently instructing Kor in air bending forms ever since.

“Not bad,” sniffs Toph, with a grudging nod in Kor’s direction.

Katara merely chuckles as she walks over and hands him a water skin. “You appear tired, young man.”

He accepts gratefully and takes a gulp between gasps. “Whatever foolish thoughts I have had about the weaknesses of the fairer sex I gladly repent,” he says with a rueful look at the two women, neither of whom look the least bit fatigued.

“Ha!” shouts Toph. “Hear that, Katara? I think we’ve just been insulted.” She flicks her fingers and a handful of stones shoot towards Kor’s head. He instantly throws up a shield and diverts them into the nearby lake. “Fairer sex, my fanny.”

Kor chokes mid swallow while Tenzin blushes and clears his throat.

“Really, Toph?” Katara murmurs. Then she peers at Kor. “You’ll want to get washed up. We’re having guests for dinner.”

Kor looks down at his muddy tunic and peels it off, revealing a muscular, sweat-covered torso. He had always been fit, but weeks of intense training had toughened him up considerably. “Washing is a good idea. I’m not fit for company right now.”

“You’ll need more than just a wash for that, boy,” Toph bellows as Katara chases her away.

Kor rolls his eyes and heads for the small pond nearby where a small wooden tub sits waiting. A bucket and a tiny iron stove sits next to the tub to fetch and heat the water. With a sweep of his arms he bends water from the stream into the tub then bends it again to heat it up, happy to be able to bypass the great deal of physical labor it would take to set up the bath normally.

He looks around carefully (he learned his lesson about Toph’s glee in torturing him at bath time the first week of his stay) then strips off his breeches and sinks down into the hot water with a relieved sigh. His head rests on the side of the tub and he gazes at the pinks and purples of the late afternoon sky, idly picking out random shapes in the puffy clouds. After hours of exertion the warm water lulls him into a half doze.

“Good evening.”

Kor starts to stand up, startled, then yelps as he immediately drops back down into the safety of the tub, his hands instinctively covering his front. Before him Lady Sato stands with just a hint of a smile, holding a bundle in her arms. His face burns in embarrassment but to his immense relief she merely places the bundle on a stump near the tub.

“Katara realized you hadn’t taken fresh clothes with you.”

Kor blinks. “Oh dear. I forgot again.” He allows himself a brief grin. “Last time I did that I attempted to bend my clothes clean. It didn’t work so well as Toph will gladly tell you.”

“Sounds like a story I’d like to hear.”

He groans. “I have no doubt she’ll share it with you at least twice.” He pauses, feeling his blush darkening to his utter disgust. “Would you mind— Um—” He waves his hands in a circular motion.

She raises one eyebrow.

“I need to get dressed,” he stammers. “If you’d be so kind as to—” He makes the circular motion again.

He sighs heavily. “Please turns you back Lady Sato, or I might possibly die from the humiliation.”

The quirk to her lips is back. “I’m sure you’ve _nothing_ to feel humiliated about, Brother Kor.” But she turns around, her arms folded as she waits for him.

He stares at her in shock, then hastily exits the tub, bends himself dry and pulls on the fresh clothes. He clears his throat to indicates he’s finished, standing awkwardly as she peers at him over one shoulder.

“I trust your modesty has been preserved?”

“Yes,” he mutters sourly. “Thank you.” Then he shakes his head and steps forward, offering his arm. “May I escort you?”

She tilts her head, her green eyes studying him intently, but she places her hand on his arm and they walk back towards the house.

“I must apologize to you, Lady Sato,” Kor begins. “I was an uncouth fool at our first meeting, and I do beg for your forgiveness.”

She is silent for a few moments, then squeezes his arm gently. “You are of course forgiven, Brother Kor. You were deceived for many years by a dangerous man under unfortunate circumstances. The truth may always come eventually, but not always easily.”

“Still,” he insists. “You always treated me with extreme courtesy and I repaid that with ill-temper and I am sorry for it.”

She now gives him a real smile and his heart lurches at the beauty of it. “You’re welcome, Kor.” She squeezes his arm again. “Or shall I say, _Your_ _Highness_?”

He stares at her then nods. Of course she knew. He considers her words and the answer comes easily to him. “I’m not Prince Korraq yet,” he replies. “But I hope to earn the right to carry that name.”

She nods. “I understand.”

“Do you?”

She slides her fingers forward and grips his hand. “I truly do.” She looks through the trees to where the little house sits, a column of smoke rising lazily from the chimney. “Will you trust me right now, Kor?”

“With my life, My Lady,” he replies, thinking suddenly of Bolin. He hopes someday to make amends with the man. Then something catches his eye, and to his shock he sees not one but two columns of smoke. His pace quickens. A fire? “Master Katara,” he bursts out and tries to run.

Lady Sato’s hand tightens her grip. “Then trust when I say there is no danger here.”

They emerge into the clearing and now see what was obscured before — a dragon curled up in the shade on the far side of the clearing, smoke curling from his nostrils. His skin is a dusky red and he raises his head curiously when he sees the newcomers, his eyes glowing as he examines them. Apparently he sees no threat and drops his head once again with a soft snort.

Kor is frozen in shock.

“I thought they were a myth,” he whispers in awe. “Father Superior said that fire benders learned their art from demons, but I had heard rumors otherwise.”

“No myth,” Lady Sato agrees. “But they are rare, and precious.”

Katara appears in the doorway, and she smiles and beckons them towards her. “Thank you for fetching him, Lady Sato. I was happy to send Tenzin to do it.”

“It was my pleasure,” she replies with just a hint of suggestion and Katara coughs knowingly. Kor once again feels his face grow hot and he glares at the old women for her intimation. Her eyes sparkle with mirth and there’s nothing left but to follow the amused woman into the house. Toph and Tenzin are sitting at the table, speaking quietly. At the fireplace a tall man in a hooded cloak stands fingering the boomerang resting on the mantle. Kor had noticed it before but hadn’t asked about it. The man turns as he hears them enter and pushes back his hood.

Kor stops in his tracks, staring at the dark red and gold robes and golden flaming crown tucked into gray hair. The left side of his face is deeply scarred, but his gaze is mild and his body relaxed.

“My boy,” Katara loops her arm through his and propels him forward. “I wish for you to meet a very old, very dear friend of mine. He has long wished to meet you, and has come to help you train.”

“I greet you, Korraq, son of Tonraq.”

Kor clenches his fists, then forces himself to take a deep breath and bows. “I greet you, Fire Lord Zuko.”


	10. Chapter 10

Kor shifts restlessly. Years of being relentlessly instructed that the man sitting before him was the incarnation of true evil was proving to be the hardest lesson yet to unlearn. But the man before him sits easily and peacefully on the ground, his legs crossed and his hands relaxed in his lap. The dragon still lounges nearby, clearly at ease as he naps.

“I am told you already bend fire. What forms do you know?”

Kor pauses. “I have never trained officially, Lord Zuko. It is forbidden to bend fire as a member of the Order.”

“Not surprising,” Zuko agrees. “So, when you do bend fire, you are reacting and probably angry.”

“I— yes.”

“You feel hatred.”

There’s a long pause. “I must not feel such things, but sometimes—“

Zuko waves his hand dismissively. “We are human, young Kor. Whatever else we may be, we are human first and foremost.”

“I attacked Lady Sato,” Kor whispers after a long moment. “I was so angry, I threw fire at her.” His head drops and he feels a deep shame. “I wanted her to hurt as I was hurting.”

Zuko regards him with a glint of amusement. “Knowing Lady Sato as I do, I have no doubt you did not come close to hurting her.”

Kor allows himself a small grin. “She had me flat on my back with a knife to my throat before I could blink.”

The Fire Lord laughs uproariously. “Of that I have no doubt. She is better than all of us, benders and non-benders.”

The two men sit quietly for a while. Periodically the dragon snorts in his sleep, sparks flying from his nostrils. Kor eyes him a little warily, still confounded that he exists.

Zuko notices him watching. “His name is Druk. He is descended from the first dragons, Ran and Shaw, who taught humans the secrets of fire. True firebenders do not bend from anger or hatred, but from understanding their relationship with their element, with the sun that gives us power, with a respect for the chi that drives us. Fire burns, yes, but also can warm and even heal. My grandfather, and then my father, took our people down a dark, terrible path where the arts of bending were subverted for evil purposes.”

This is something that sounds more familiar to Kor, echoing the rants of Father Superior.

“At first I agreed with them. I was raised to think that firebenders were superior, that the art was to be used to subdue others.” He looks closely at Kor. “Then you changed my mind.”

“Me?” Kor blurts.

Zuko smiles briefly. “Well, who you used to be.” His eyes lose focus as he gazes into the distance, remembering. “I was meant to destroy Aang, the last Avatar. Instead he became one of my closest friends, and helped me overthrow my father and restore the Fire Kingdom to what it was meant to be, aware of our place in the balance of the world. For a time the world was heading back in the right direction, after years of war.”

Kor says nothing, but sees the pained expression on the Fire Lord’s face.

“Then you were born to the Crown Prince of the Polar Kingdoms. He was now heir to the throne and father of the Avatar. His brother Unalaq could not bear this apparent sign of favor, and in his jealously and greed he betrayed his brother, his kingdom, and the world.”

Zuko rises to his feet and Kor scrambles up after him.

“In a different life, you helped me,” Zuko says, his deep voice rumbling with emotion. “Now it is I who must return the favor and help you, if you will have me.”

Kor stares at this man who he spent his life considering the enemy, and suddenly feels a comradeship that spans lifetimes. He _knows_ this man like a brother — feels it in his soul. The years of cultivated hatred slips away, without resistance.

“Master Zuko, I gladly accept your guidance, and your friendship.”

Zuko’s eyes gleam. “Then let us begin.”

 

* * *

 

“Hello again.”

Kor opens his eyes but does not move. “We keep meeting here, Lady Sato.”

She is sitting on a nearby bench, fresh clothes in her hand. Her green eyes are warm with amusement. “I wonder if you forgot your clothes on purpose, to turn me into a chamber maid.”

“If you had seen the number of scorch marks on my person before I was able to come here and heal them, you would not say that.”

She nods sympathetically. “I can only imagine. The Fire Lord is a master like few have ever seen.”

“My skin agrees. I thought training with my other masters was hard, but the past few weeks have been harder than I could have imagined.” Kor moves to sit up then clears his throat. When she makes no move he sighs plaintively. “Lady Sato would you please turn your back?”

She raises an amused eyebrow then obediently shuffles around until her back is to him while he dresses. “I’ll have you know your modesty is extremely amusing. We are fare more civilized in the Fire Kingdom, and do not have such issues.”

“You’ll have to forgive my poor heathen upbringing,” he responds sourly, and she chuckles.

“I have news for you,” she says after he presents himself a few minutes later, fully dressed with an arm courtesouly bent out. She allows him to help her up with a quirk of her lips, then her expression grows serious as they walk back towards the house. “My spies report the entire polar fleet is preparing to sail.”

Kor stops, confused. “The _entire_ fleet?”

“North and South,” she confirms. “Masts are being cut, probably as reinforcements as no new keels have been seen. Large amounts of food stores and water casks are being piled on the wharves.”

“How can you know this, my Lady?” Kor asks, bewildered.

They emerge into the clearing near the house, and rather than answering him she points up at the sky. Kor’s gaze follows her arm and he sees something in the distance.

“Messenger birds?” he asks doubtfully, knowing the shape is wrong.

“Something better.”

There’s a shrill whistle, and after a moment Tenzin emerges from the house, looking up. Kor can now make out what appears to be a person, with… wings? The figure begins to spiral down, finally coming to rest on the ground. Kor see it’s a girl, perhaps fifteen, with a stick running along her back and cloth fanning out from it on either side. Like Tenzin she too was adorned with blue tattoos. With a flourish she snaps her staff closed and bows to Tenzin. He laughs and pulls her into a hug as Kor and Lady Sato approach.

“My brave girl,” he says with a smile. “What news today?”

The girl blushes when she sees she has an unexpected audience, but speaks. “My father, the air scouts report the fleets have sailed. Both appear to be heading to Capitol City.”

Lady Sato’s eyes narrow. “Unalaq seeks to recover the Avatar before he come into his full power.”

Tenzin nods somberly. “That is very likely.”

Kor’s heart pounds. “What are the chances they know I am here?” he demands. “Your estate is a wonder, my Lady, but as far as defending the warriors of the Order—”

Zuko strides out of the house, Katara and Toph behind him.

“The manor is better defended than you think,” Lady Sato agrees, “but you are correct. It was never designed to resist a full scale invasion.”

Zuko growls low in his throat. “We must evacuate your people to safety, my Lady.”

“Perhaps,” she looks at Kor thoughtfully. “But I believe a diversion is in order.”

“My Lady?” He asks, confused, but she ignores him and instead turns to the two women still standing in the doorway.

“How much longer until he reaches his full strength, Master Katara?”

Toph cackles. “Never, the way he’s training!”

“Shush,” Katara admonishes her, then turks back to the raven haired noblewoman. “His bending has grown immensely, and his techniques are strong, even now with fire.” She looks at Zuko for confirmation and he nods. “But he has not yet achieved Avatar state.”

Kor blinks in confusion. “What is that?”

Everyone looks at him in shock, then Toph groans loudly.

“Unalaq,” she shouts angrily into the air. “You IDIOT!”

“Let me explain,” the young woman, Jinora, says suddenly. “I think I can help.”

Tenzin’s brow wrinkles as he peers at his daughter, then he smiles and bows. “As you wish, Master Jinora.”

Kor sputters and leans over to Lady Sato. “She’s a master?” he asks in a low voice.

“Youngest airbending master in history. She was anointed even younger than Aang.” Lady Sato whispers back.

“The last Avatar?” Kor is startled.

“And her grandfather.”

Kor shakes his head in disbelief. “That whole concept of past lives still hurts my head,” he admits with a rueful grimace. “But I feel the truth of it.”

“Somethings are better just accepted than dwelled upon.”

He looks at her for a long moment, then he chuckles. “You are a wise woman, Lady Sato.”

She shakes her head. “Just an experienced fool,” she demurs. “I do look forward to our next meeting.”

Jinora joins them, and she glances back and forth between them with a quizzical expression as if uncertain whether she should interrupt them. “Is now a good time?” she asks with some timidity.

Kor suddenly grins at the airbender then turns and bows extravagantly at the noblewoman. “Until the next time you interrupt my bath, my Lady.”

Lady Sato turns bright red as Jinora collapses into an embarrassed coughing fit.

He feels a surge of pride that soars even higher when he feels a hand clap him hard on the back. “Not bad, twinkletoes,” grunts Toph in a rare show of approval. “We’ll make an Avatar out of you yet.”


	11. Chapter 11

Jinora leads Kor to a small rise overlooking the entrance to the cave that leads to the spirit world. At her instruction, he sinks awkwardly into lotus position across from the petite air-bending master with a sigh. Meditation has never been his strong suit.

“Tell me again why we can’t just walk into the spirit world through the cave?” he complains.

“That would defeat the purpose of what we are trying to do,” she replies. Her hair looks burnished in the sunlight, and there’s a serenity to her he can’t comprehend in one so young.

He rolls his shoulders, trying to get comfortable. “And what is that, exactly?”

“Teach you about the Avatar.”

Kor sighs, staring down at his hands. “I still don’t know what that is, really.”

“When your Uncle told you that multi-element bending was rare, he was saying a partial truth,” Jinora begins. Her eyes drift shut, and he finds himself mimicking her posture, allowing his eyes to also close. Slowly all other senses shut down, and he’s left with only the sound of her voice, seemingly compelled to focus on the words. “It is in fact only embodied in a single human being at any given time,” she continues. Her voice deepening, almost throbbing with intensity. “That human, infused with the spirit of Raava, is charged to be a protector of the spirit _and_ the human realm. When an incarnation of the Avatar dies, that human’s spirit as well as Raava’s bond with a new host. As one dies, another is born. Thus the cycle extends itself.”

Kor takes a deep breath, feeling the cool air stream into his lungs. Around him the earth thrums with life and he starts to feel it as a prickling sensation, like a breeze ruffling the soft hairs of his arm.

“I am told you have met some of your past lives. Their spirits reside in the spirit world, yes, but also in you. You in essence are a physical conduit of the spirit world and when you enter the Avatar state, you are filled with the knowledge and skills of all past Avatars, as well as fully merged with the spirit of Raava.” Jinora’s voice becomes softer, yet somehow even more compelling. “You are the most powerful being in both worlds. But know also, to die in the Avatar state is to break the cycle of reincarnation, and the world will descend into chaos and devastation.” The air-master’s voice is almost a growl. “So take care, Prince of the Polar Kingdoms and Avatar of the World. With great power comes a heavy burden; that if necessary you will sacrifice your life rather than risk ending the Avatar cycle.”

He feels the freshening breeze ruffle his hair. “My life has never been my own,” he says finally. “Such a sacrifice is no new burden.”

“But throwing away your life needlessly is also a poor choice,” the girl continued, her voice intent. “Cherish your humanity, or you yourself will be out of balance.”

The tingling on his skin is growing more insistent as Jinora continues speaking. Somehow her voice is growing more distant, almost muffled. Other voices started to emerge around him.

“…was the most powerful warrior in history, then through my arrogance I lost my love to Koh…”

“…saved my homeland, then founded an order that led to much pain and suffering…”

“…was blind to the evils of those around me, resulting in generations being subjected to war…”

“…was hidden for a hundred years while the world raged…”

“I tried to eat bees.”

Kor’s eyes fly open. Before him stands a dark-haired young man sporting a jaunty goatee and a mischievous expression. Arrayed around him are amorphous shapes that fade even as he watches. He thought he caught the swirl of an airbender cloak and a glint of a golden fan, but they were gone before he could focus.

“To be fair, I didn’t realize I was trying to eat bees until it was too late.”

Kor casts about for something to say and finally settles on “Who are you?”

“I am you, Your Highness, and I must say I’m a handsome fellow!” The man flings himself to the ground nearby, and with a start Kor realizes they’re in the spirit world, the grass purple underneath them. A few spirits scamper around them, including a glowing blue frog blinking benignly from a pocket on the young man’s tunic.

“How did we—” Kor trails off when he spots Jinora out of the corner of his eye. She bows in the direction of the newcomer.

“I am honored, Ancient One,” she says formally. “And I thank you for coming.”

He winces and waves his hands in aggravation. “None of that now, we’re all friends here.” He picks up the frog and places it carefully on a small stone. “Ten thousand years before you were born, young prince, the four great lion turtles were each persuaded to grant me a gift, and thus I began the journey from Wan the thieving pain in the ass, to Wan the Avatar.”

Jinora bites back a smile. “It’s an aspect of you glossed over in the histories, my Lord.”

He winks at her.

“Is not knowing all four elements enough?” Kor asked, trying to follow along.

“Not at all!” Wan rolls himself to a sitting position, elbows on his knees and his chin on his hand. “You must accept Raava’s spirit within you. She’s been trying, mind you, but you keep shutting her out.”

“My…” Kor hesitates. “Predecessor?” He shakes his head and continues, still not fully wrapping his head around this whole reincarnation thing.

“Aang,” Wan supplies helpfully. “Nice chap. Bit of a ninny when he was younger, but aren’t we all, really?”

“Yes, Avatar Aang,” Kor continues desperately. “He said the spirit of Raava left him and came to me when I was born.”

Wan sits up, rummaging in his tunic. “That she did.”

“So is she not within me already?”

With a shout of triumph Wan extracts a small teapot from somewhere. “She is, and she isn’t. I can help with this.” He gives Kor a direct look. “If you wish to fulfill your destiny, save the world, and get the girl, you need her and you need her now.”

Kor sputters, feeling his face grow hot at the thought of who he might wish _his girl_ to be, but he doesn’t have time to wonder long. He notices with some surprise that it appears to be glowing, and he watches as Wan places the teapot on the ground and lifts the lid. The tingling he had previously felt returns with greater force and he finds himself on his feet, muscles right and fists clenched. Pouring out of the teacup a bright blueish white being emerges, and Kor aches to reach out and touch. Her voice, for he instantly knows her as Raava, the oldest spirit, the spirit of peace and light, wraps around him like a warm blanket on a cold night.

_I greet thee, Korraq. Born of Aang’s spirit, you and I are destined to travel together._

“Why aren’t we then?” Kor demands, his body still humming.

The spirit twists restlessly, wrapping briefly around Wan’s body as it does so. His smile grows wider.

_Your uncle trained you carefully, influenced your thoughts, kept you from accepting me fully, and eventually, from even recognizing I was there. You were even afraid to dream without his permission._

Kor’s jaw clenches, and his fingers itch to reach out, to touch this divine creature before him, but he holds himself back, willing himself to patience.

_You must accept me willingly, Korraq, invite me in again to renew our bond. Otherwise, both worlds will sink into chaos._

He takes a deep breath and feels his resolve harden into a steel bar within him. “What must I do?”

_Let me in._

Kor closes his eyes, flinging his arms out wide, his fingers stretched and reaching, determined to pull her in however he can. His body is on fire, his skin erupting with sensations of small explosions everywhere. Faintly, he hears Jinora gasp but doesn’t open his eyes. Instead he focuses hard, yearning towards Raava with all of his will. With a scream of triumph he feels her arrival, knows her pains and her triumphs, and sees now in perfect focus the long train of Avatars with whom she has shared her purpose of bringing balance and peace to the world. His mind whirls with the flood of images and feelings as generation after generation of acquired knowledge and experience pours into him.

He opens his eyes, blinking in the bright light of the spirit world, no blinking in the bright light that he himself emits. He looks down, sees that his tunic has disappeared. His bare chest now glows with an image of the spirit. She appears to almost fly across his skin. A flash catches his eye and he sees tendrils of her on his shoulder, leading down onto back. He feels a sense of contentment he has never experienced in his life. Her voice murmurs quietly in his ear.

_I am within you, and I am you. My Avatar…_

“Settle down, there, son,” Wan calls out.

Kor realizes he’s looking down at him from a decent height, finally noticing he’s floating about four feet about the ground. Somehow he manages to touch down to earth, and the blazing brightness fading as he does so.

“Well done, youngster!” Wan cheers. “Your first Avatar state! Not _quite_ as good as losing your virginity, at least to my recollection, but that’s neither here nor there.”

Jinora rises from where she’d been sitting quietly, watching the proceedings. Wan gives her a brief peck on the cheek before rubbing her head fondly. She blushes at his ministrations. Air Master or no, she’s still a young teen being hugged by the visage of a handsome man.

“Thank you for calling me, Air Master,” he says before pulling her into a hug and ruffling her hair. “I always liked to see evil vanquished.” He turns to Kor. “Remember, our lives are never fully on our own. The quest for peace and balance is a treacherous one. Raava will guide you, but she is a spirit. Remember to follow your human guides as well.” He spins his hands into a circle, and water and earth leap up into one ball, then fire and steam swirl into another, then he collides them together in a blinding flash.

When Kor’s eyesight recovers, the original Avatar is gone but he can just making out the happy voice fading away.

“Everything must always be with balance, Kor!”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear lord it's been a while. Sorry folks, life has been, well, let's just say it hasn't been the easiest. But here we are finally, hope you enjoy...

Kor opens his eyes to find himself still sitting cross-legged across from young Air Master. Jinora is watching him, her brown eyes calm and wise beyond her youth.

“That,” he says finally, “was something to experience.”

She smiles at him as she rises to her feet. “No doubt. Come, Avatar Korraq. I believe there are things that require your attention.”

He follows her back to the cottage, feeling strangely more at peace than he ever has before, even with the newfound weight of responsibility thrust upon him. As they get closer, he sees the mighty form of Druk soaring into the sky, two figures perched on his back as he flaps his way . They quicken their steps and burst into the clearing to see Katara and Toph speaking with Tenzin. Toph tilts her head, turning towards the two new arrivals.

“Hurry up, Twinkletoes! We have work to do!”

Kor frowns as he sees Katara’s face, tight with worry. “The scouts report a portion of the fleet has veered off and is heading to the estate. Zuko is flying Lady Sato back so that she may order the evacuation and see to their defenses. Then he will fly to his capitol and muster his navy.”

Tenzin clasps Jinora on the shoulder. “Alert the scouts to withdraw to Air Temple Island. We must ensure no landing can be made.”

“I will see to it, Father,” Jinora says, her face determined. “I will meet you there.”

“Be safe, my daughter.”

Katara hugs her tightly before stepping back. The Air Master looks over her shoulder as she readies her flying stick. “I hope we may meet again, Avatar Korraq.”

“I’m sure we will,” he assures her with a quick bow. “And I thank you for your guidance.”

She blushes, then with a few quick steps launches herself into the air, a vortex of air pushing her skyward.

“Okay, okay,” grumbles Toph. “Enough sentimentality. Let’s go.” She gives Tenzin a small shove. “Call your beastie and let’s get this over with.”

Kor blinks, not actually sure how Tenzin had arrived; he’d assumed he’d hiked in like he and Katara had. He’d certainly seen no other creature on the island that could have carried a passenger besides Druk. Tenzin pulls out a small wooden whistle from his pocket and blows hard, though Kor hears nothing.

“Get your pack, Kor,” Katara advises him quietly. “I’m not sure when we’ll return.”

He hurries into the house and stuffs a few articles of clothing lying on his bed into his pack, glancing quickly around his sleeping space to make sure he wasn’t leaving anything behind. Outside he hears a loud rumble followed by a thud. He stops in the doorway as he catches sight of a huge creature, and despite never having seen such an animal before, there is a familiarity that immediately blooms in his mind.

“A-Appa?” he stutters, uncertain.

Tenzin turns quickly, a look of shock on his face that relaxes into a smile. “No, Avatar, my father’s bison is long since passed. This is Oogi, and he will bear us to Lady Sato’s manor. He’s not as fast as Druk, but he’ll get us there quickly enough.”

Toph mutters darkly under her breath but she quickly climbs onto the beast’s broad back. “I hate flying,” she complains as Kor scrambles up behind her.

“Shush,” Katara admonishes her. “Unless you want to walk there.”

Oogi lifted off with a lurch, the ground below them dropping away with surprising swiftness. As the bison rose, Kor saw the distant sea come into view beyond the long expanse of forest Katara had led him through months previously. The sun is sinking behind the horizon and the sky flashes to brilliant orange and violet, the sea a dark expanse below. The bison grumbles as he soars, and Kor hears Tenzin murmuring low words of encouragement as Katara smiles benignly at her son. In front of him Toph is rigid with tension, every line of her body radiating distress.

“You do not like flying, Master Toph?” he asks quietly.

She doesn’t speak for a moment, then rasps, “Can’t feel the ground, so I’m literally flying blind.” Then she laughs, startling him. “Flying blind, that’s a good one!”

Katara rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but her smile never fades as she looks upon her old friend. “Even with no earth beneath your feet, you still see more clearly than most, old friend.”

Toph scoffs but is clearly pleased. She relaxes slightly as they continue on, and soon the stately towers of Lady Sato’s manor appears in the distance. Kor spots the fishing fleet still lying at anchor and feels a sudden ache in his chest at the thought that his father could be among them. He wonders that no has mentioned his mother at all, except for Katara’s comment that his uncle had once tried to assault her.

“Tell me what you see, boy,” Toph demands, reaching back to thump him on the leg.

Kor squints. “I see the manor house, and the fleet is in the harbor,” he pauses, his eyes straining to see in the fading light. “There are large shapes lined up near the fields on the water side, but I can’t quite make them out.”

“What of the sea?”

“Noth—” Kor breaks off, heart sinking as he catches a glimpse of something just barely visible on the horizon. “I see masts in the distance.”

She grunts. “To be expected. At least we still have some time.”

Oogi begins his descent at Tenzin’s quiet urging. As they get closer they can see the swarm of activity in and around the estate, and a bewildering number of devices being shoved into position by armored guards. Sailors are hauling bundles onto their ships, and securing the menacing forms of ballistas and catapults to the decks. The shapes near the fields reveal themselves to be curious looking carts, enclosed with metal plates, only the very bottoms of their wheels visible beneath the siding.

Toph slid to the ground with obvious relief, followed by the others. Tenzin sent Oogi back into the air with a solid pat to his backside, watching as the bison lumbered once more into the air.

“For his safety,” said Tenzin at Kor’s curious look. “He has no place in a battle, should it come to that.”

“Master Katara!”

They turn to see Bolin racing towards them. “Lady Sato bids me greet you and requests your presence.”

“Of course, my boy,” says Katara. “Lead the way.”

Kor steps forward quickly, and drops to his knees in front of the burly manservant. “Friend Bolin, I have thought long of our last meeting. I treated your kindness with ill temper and dishonor. I beg your forgiveness.”

Shock flashes across Bolin’s face, and there’s a long moment of silence. Finally he smiles and claps a large hand on Kor’s shoulder, urging him up. “You’re forgiven of course, Brother Kor, especially if you come to aid us!”

Kor shakes his head. “Brother no longer, I am glad to say. I have learned my life is to be in service to others in a way far greater than that of the Order, but for now I am Lady Sato’s to command.”

Bolin nods in approval and shepherds them towards the front of the manor.

“Especially if it involves bathing, eh, Kor?” Toph whispers loudly from behind him.

Kor flushes scarlet, sputtering, then stops dead as he sees a cloaked figure striding quickly along the parapet above him. In the waning light, he can just make out her features, angry and determined. With a jolt he realizes she’s wearing a form of armor, a sword and dagger hanging from her belt. She seems to sense his gaze for she stops and turns, looking down to see their group approach. Their eyes lock, and her lips start to curl upward in a smile.

Bolin leads them up the rough stone steps until finally they stand before her.

“You made good time, Master Katara,” she comments to Katara, her voice low.

The old water master chuckled. “Much more quickly than even I expected, my lady. He emerged from the spirit world not long after you left.”

Lady Sato nods and turns to Tenzin. “Your scouts brought word of a squadron of ships heading this way. I cannot thank you enough for their assistance.”

“We are ever your allies to call upon, and we saw the masts on our approach,” replied Tenzin, his eyes glinting. “Are they still here?”

“Down at the harbor, Master Tenzin,” she said, pointing. “They offered to help launch our own fleet with some speed.”

Tenzin rolls his eyes. “Of that I have no doubt. I shall join them unless you have need of me?”

“Thank you, no, but once the fleet is launched please withdraw with your people to the air temple. I would not leave it with weakened defenses.”

Tenzin bows. “Thank you, my lady.” He clasps her mother briefly then launches himself over the wall towards the harbor, a cushion of air aiding his landing.

Lady Sato turns back to Katara. “I ask a boon of you both. The caravan with those being evacuated is leaving soon with as many guards as I can spare. I beg of you to join them, that my people escape safely.”

“Of course, my lady,” Katara bows.

Toph sighs. “I always miss out of the fun stuff.”

“Come along, you,” Katara mutters as she drags the grumbling woman back down the stairs.

Kor blinks as he finds himself alone with the beautiful lady of the manor. “And me, lady?” he asks softly. “What would you have me do?”

She takes a slow step forward, and with one gauntleted hand parts the front of his tunic, the softly glowing form of Raava just visible on his chest. She exhales with relief. “I have only heard of this,” she murmurs. “But to see it…” She pauses, then seems to shake herself. “For now, please stick close to me. Hopefully we need not reveal you to Order scouts, but just in case…”

“As you wish, my lady,” he assures her. “Avatar Wan said I must trust in my human guides, and I know in my heart you are among such.”

She blinks, then reddens slightly under his steady gaze. “I hope your faith in me is not misplaced, Avatar Korraq,” she says finally.

“It is not,” Kor says with an assurance that surprises them both. “I fear more for your faith in _me_.”

She cocks her head as she studies him, her eyes intent. “I know you won’t fail me, Avatar Korraq. You won’t fail any of us.” She turns and beckons him to follow her. “Come, let us see what the Father Superior has in store for us today.”

Kor swallows hard, old fears struggling to the surface. The approaching masts are now visible from the wall, and he sees the newly armed fishing fleet burst out of the harbor under the powerful vortexes from the airbenders. Around them the guards finalize preparations, catapults and ballistas line the walls, and in the distance he sees the caravan passing through the inland gates, on their way to safety. He sighs, then turns back to see the distant masts grow slowly closer.

Lady Sato rests her hand on the hilt of her sword, her face once more set in steely determination. “And so it begins,” she breathes softly.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oy, the time I have to write is so tiny! I hate it! But anyway, Happy Chrismakwanzukah to you all and/or whatever holiday you may celebrate. 
> 
> Cheers,  
> -V95

The heavy thumps of the catapults ring along the stone parapet, lofting large stones across the fields and into the harbor, seeking to dissuade the incoming polar kingdom invaders from making a landing. Kor marvels at the distance Lady Sato’s war machines are able to achieve, easily twice the distance of the catapults at the Order’s citadel. In the distance he sees the flashes of fire as the two fleets engage, the Order ships trying to close the distance to the defenders to bring them within range of their weapons but struggling against the extra distance their fleet’s weapons seem to have.

“Your weapons are superior to any I’ve seen,” Kor says quietly, glancing at the tense face of Lady Sato.

She nods, not turning her head from the battle. “My goal first and foremost is to keep my people alive. We always expect to be greatly outnumbered, so every advantage may be another life saved.”

“If I may be helpful,” Kor says after a moment’s consideration. “Since they have not been able to make landfall, the Order will probably switch tactics and send in the waterbenders. Individually they will be harder to hit with your machines as they make their way to shore, and once on shore they will attempt to disable the defenses to secure a safe landing for their ships.”

“That seems quite risky for the benders,” she comments, glancing at him.

Kor hesitates before admitting, “It’s a calculated risk, yes. Casualties tend to be high with such tactics.” He sighs and looks down, feeling the shame of having once thought there was honor in sending men to their likely deaths.

She curses under her breath but says only, “Come with me.”

He follows her to a nearby tower where she speaks briefly to one of the guards who immediately launches a flare, then raises a series of flags. Captain Mako appears and his face grows grim as she urgently explains the new risk. After another moment two answering flares come from the harbor and the reinforced carts waiting in the nearby fields. Captain Mako salutes then heads back to his troops along the wall. Kor sees Asami’s jaw clench then she heads for the stairs, gesturing for him to follow her. 

In the courtyard they find Bolin pushing a wheelbarrow stacked with small crates into a large hut next to the the rear gate. Kor makes out the shape of small ceramic urns, and surmises that they hold transportable water for the healers to use on the wounded. Inside the hut, he can make out several more women laying out basins next to small cots and knows them to be his countrywomen, also displaced from their homeland for the crime of bringing comfort to those in need. He feels his resolve harden in his chest, and promises himself he will give his all to make a difference to this motley assortment of people who had come together from pain and sorrow to build a peaceful life under the protection of a brilliant and beautiful woman with her own dreams of a better world. A peace that was now threatened, in no small part because of him. 

He would not fail today.

“That’s the final load, Lady Sato,” said the silver haired healer. Her eyes flicker briefly at Kor before returning her attention to Lady Sato. “We’re as ready as we’re going to be.”

“There is more haste now — Kor has warned of the potential use of shock troops to overwhelm the harbor defenses.” Lady Sato takes a deep breath, distress finally showing in her normally impassive face. “The house was not meant to withstand a siege. If Unalaq lands his ships we’re evacuating. Any wounded sent to you must be ready for transport at a moment’s notice. The armored carts will buy us some time, but not much if a sufficient number of troops land. Don’t delay when you see the gold warning flare.” She looks hard at Bolin. “I’m counting on you.”

He nods vigorously. “You can rely on me, my Lady!”

“We will be ready, Lady Sato,” Kya bows, then she smirks. “However, if I may make a small wager, I suspect Lin and Suyin’s squads will not only successfully reinforce the harbor defense, but could completely repel the entire invasion singlehandedly.”

Kor blinks as Lady Sato laughs heartily. “I will not take that bet Master Kya, as I wish you the win.” At Kor’s look of confusion, she added, “They are Master Toph’s daughters and they lead their clan of metalbenders.”

“From the armored carts they can create just about anything!” Bolin shouts excitedly. “Master Toph discovered this art, but few earthbenders have mastered it.”

“Keep trying, Bolin,” Lady Sato says with a twinkle. “You may get there eventually.”

“Metalbenders.” Kor looks awed, then shakes his head ruefully. “I will wager that Master Toph was just waiting to spring that on me, had I ever come anywhere close to defeating her.” He laughs suddenly and rolls his eyes. “I do give thanks that my eyes have finally been opened to see the world as it, and not the dim shadow I had been raised to accept.”

Kya’s eyebrows climb high up her forehead then she, too, chuckles. “I believe with that statement you and I may yet become friends, Kor.”

“I will fight to earn that honor, Master Kay,” he replies earnestly. “As well as your forgiveness for my ungrateful ways.”

Kya starts to reply, then her eyes grow wide as she reaches out with one trembling hand and tugs at Kor’s tunic. She looks quickly at Lady Sato who nods, her face grave. 

“Avatar,” the healer breathes, her voice suddenly filled hope. Then her hand tightens into a fist, pulling Kor roughly towards her. “You wish to earn my forgiveness and my friendship?” she demands, her eyes flashing.

He nods frantically, mute with surprise. The sounds and shouts in the courtyard around them fade from his hearing before the intensity of Kya’s glare.

“Keep. Her. Safe.” Kya growls low, her gaze flickering towards the Lady of the Manor. “Do not let harm come to one hair on her head.”

“I swear it on my life,” he chokes out with no hesitation. “I will die before I see hurt come to her.”

She searches his face, then nods, apparently satisfied. “Then I look forward to a long and successful friendship! If you’ll excuse me, Lady?” she says as an aside, and with Lady Sato’s nod she flips her hair and retreats to the healer’s chambers.

There’s a bellow above them and whirling, Kor sees Captain Mako swing his sword, signaling the defenders to commence firing. 

“That was quick,” Lady Sato muttered. “Too quick.” She sprints for the stairs leading up to the parapet. In the harbor he sees at least eight ships fully engulfed in flame. Plumes of water closer to shore reveal dozens upon dozens of water benders now making their way towards the first line of defenses in the dunes. Behind them smaller long boats manned by hundreds of more men row hard for the beach, even as their abandoned ships sink into the depths at the mouth of the harbor

“Captain!” Lady Sato shouts, and Mato turns and hurries over to her. “My Lady,” he growls, his fury evident. “The waterbenders have indeed left the ships, and they scuttled their own ships to block our fleet!” 

Mako’s assessment was obviously true, as the fishing fleet-turned-navy was tacking along the lines of burning vessels, looking for a path through the debris. Behind them what remained of the invading fleet was in full retreat and likely headed to rejoin Unalaq’s other invading force heading for the Fire Kingdom.

“They won’t be blocked for long,” Kor said hopefully, watching as the ships sank even lower into the water.

Mako cursed. “Long enough to matter. Look there.” He points, and now Kor can make out that fire is spreading along the water itself.

“Ruptured oil barrels,” Lady Sato comments, her voice harsh. “Tonraq can’t risk his ships sailing through that. And now those men coming ashore have no retreat.”

She looks at Kor, her eyes questioning.

“They will fight to the death, my Lady,” he says, confirming her suspicion. “They have been told that to die in battle is a guarantee to a blessed afterlife.”

“There will be no blessed anything after I’m done with them,” Captain Mako spits, and with a spin he whirls a ball of flame towards a pyre on a nearby hill. It explodes into flame and in the blazing light Kor can just make out what appear to be lengths of rope hanging above the furious flames.

“Well, that’s one way to cut the ropes,” Lady Sato says drily.

Mako grunts. “You’d rather I send somebody down there with a torch?”

“No, no, I wouldn’t dream of denying you your fun.”

Kor’s jaw drops as Mako bursts out in a loud guffaw before he quickly recovers. He clears his throat, several times, then asks. “How long should this take?”

“Patience, Captain,” she advises, her eyes still twinkling. “Any minute now.”

He sighs. “I really hope this works,” he mutters, ignoring her outraged glare.

Even at this distance, Kor catches the sharp twangs of ropes failing, followed by a roar of sound.

“What…” he starts to ask, then stops as he sees a wall of logs hurtling down the hill into the harbor with a huge splash, crashing into the first wave of benders and capsizing some of the invaders’ long boats.

“As I was saying, Captain,” Lady Sato purrs with a grin. “Hopefully we’ve bought ourselves a bit more time.”

The armored carts had been rolling steadily closer to the harbor, and now Kor makes out figures moving fluidly alongside them. Streams of metal cables zoom out and one by one wrap themselves around those waterbenders agile enough to avoid being crushed by the log fall, but whose bodies were now being dragged roughly back, bouncing painfully over the rough bark as they were reeled into shore to be take into custody. The catapults of the defenders had not ceased their firing, and more and more of the now trapped long boats are hit, sending their occupants into the water, or clinging to a nearby log. Tonraq’s fleet would soon be able to pass the remains of the burning ships and collect what survivors it could.

“This was too easy,” Mako growls.

“Or we planned well,” Lady Sato said, though her eyes still raked the scene, her face troubled.

Kor’s skin starts to crawl and he whirls around as screams erupt from behind them. A deluge of water comes hurtling towards them and without stopping to think, Kor spins his arms and catches the flow, sending it back towards where it came, flinging the surprised man off the wall.

“Intruders at the rear gate!” 

“Ladders at the wall!”

Bolin bellows his fury as he throws boulder after boulder at the nimble polar kingdom attackers. Kya stands in the doorway, her face set as she too repels anyone who dares come near her hospital. More men pour over the far wall, stepping on the fallen bodies of Lady Sato’s guards that had been taken unawares.

“There’s Sato!” 

“Get her!”

“Find Brother Kor!”

“Burn this heathen place to ashes!”

Two men have stayed behind at the wall as they screamed orders at their subordinates, their richly adorned furs announcing their status. Kor’s rage suddenly explodes from him and he screams his defiance as he runs towards the invaders. He recognizes the men immediately, and from the screech he hears below from Kya, knows she has seen them too; Tarrlok and Noatak, the witch hunters.

“YOU WILL NOT HURT THESE PEOPLE!” he roars, his world flashing white as he leaps into the air, held aloft by a huge vortex, a swirl of ice around one hand and an inferno of bright flame around the other. “THE WORLD GROANS AT THE WEIGHT OF YOUR EVIL!” In his mind he hears the whispers of Kuruk, and Kyoshi, and others, all urging him to victory.

Tarrlok’s face blanches in the face of Korraq the Avatar in his full power, and he cowers back against the wall. His brother Noatak steps forward, his face filled with zealous hatred.

“It’s a False Avatar!” he shrieks. “Eternal glory for those who take him down!”

To a man, the invaders step back and look up, and everyone of them instantly turns their attention on _him._


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks, it's been a crazy time for me and I've missed you all so much! Don't know if you heard about this past winter's weather in California, but my house got flooded and I've spent months getting that sorted. However, I'm back and so very ready to be writing again. Hope you enjoy!

_When last we left our heroes:_

_Tarrlok’s face blanches in the face of Korraq the Avatar in his full power, and he cowers back against the wall. His brother Noatak steps forward, his face filled with zealous hatred._

_“It’s a False Avatar!” he shrieks. “Eternal glory for those who take him down!”_

_To a man, the invaders step back and look up, and everyone of them instantly turns their attention on him._

_\--_

Kor sees faces he recognizes, fellow acolytes, almost all who had been taken from their homes by the Order and subjected to the same brain washing he himself had been subjected to.

_“To keep the balance,”_ he hears Wan whisper suddenly, _“Sometimes you have to kick a little ass”_

_“But always offer a choice,”_ adds Aang. “ _You are not a conqueror.”_

The new Avatar takes a deep breath. “The falsehood is in you!” he cries. “The Order demands blind obedience even while tearing families apart, steals sons from their parents, tortures and kills those who are guilty of nothing than not being slaves Father Superior’s vision, all in the name of his lust for power!”

Some of the acolytes falter, glancing quickly at the spluttering Noatak.

“He lies!” Noatak shrills, even as he carefully positions himself behind some nearby acolytes, dragging his brother along with him. “Don’t listen to him my brethren!”

“ _The world deserves justice from this coward!”_ Kyoshi hisses.

“ _Remember that fire may burn, but also will cleanse,”_ rasps Roku.

Kor suddenly laughs aloud, and everyone stares at him in shock.

“I see you hide behind those poor man who are ever obedient to your dark purpose,” he calls mockingly. “Let you prove my falsehood yourself. Show that you are not the weaklings and cowards I think you to be. I challenge you both, one champion to two.”

The surrounding acolytes all turn to see Noatak’s reaction, and seeing their faces grow doubtful the witch hunter grabs his brother and pushes past the men he had stood behind.

“Our hands are guided by the spirits!” he declares, his fists grasping a talisman on a chain around his neck. “We cannot fail!”

“You are too used to fighting against those that can’t fight back, capturing us unawares in our sleep, or by holding our loved ones hostage,” shouts Kya, her expression fierce as she holds her own stream of water at the ready. “I for one will not go so quietly now.”

“Silence before your betters, witch!” Tarrlok suddenly screams back. The Inquisitor steps forward, roused from his previous position cowering against the wall by his outrage. “We will teach you your place!”

“You will teach me nothing,” she replies flatly. “Not now and not ever.”

Without warning, Noatak strikes. Deadly ice shards stream towards Kor and Lady Sato but they steam out of existence with a burst of flame from the Avatar.

“You act without honor,” Kor spits with contempt. “I issued you a challenge, Inquisitor! By the laws of the Order you may not strike until you agree.”

“Those rules do not apply to heretics,” Noatak sneers as he and his brother inch their way along the parapet. He holds his fist up, the chain glinting in the fading light. He glances over his shoulder then looks back with a smirk, his eyes flashing with wild hatred. “Now you will see how we deal with the likes of you!”

Screams erupt as sickly purple light flashes just beyond the wall, and with a dull explosion black beings flare into view. They are not so much black as sucking all light into a terrifying vacuum, save their eyes which glow violet with rage. Tarrlok raises himself up at the sight, his eyes wide and horrified. He tugs frantically at his brother’s sleeve, but Noatak ignores him utterly. “Witches shall be wiped from the face of the earth! Bow before the might of the spirits and the will of Father Superior!” Spittle flies from his lips as they’re pulled into a rictus of madness.

_“Raava, what are those creatures?”_ Kor calls desperately to the spirit within him.

“ _Dark spirits,”_ Raava replies, her unease coming through clearly. “ _They are deformed by an imbalance in the spirit world, and they should not be here.”_

_“Unalaq?”_

_“I suspect as much, though I do not know how.”_ Raava’s voice grows urgent. “ _Humans cannot fight them — only you may face them safely.”_

Kor drops back to land immediately in front of Lady Sato, still standing on the parapet with her sword drawn.

“My lady,” he calls, his voice harsh with tension, his eyes never leaving the horror in front of him. “You must fallback with your guards. Take out as many of the Order as you can, but do not let them engage with the dark spirits.”

“I will not abandon you to fight alone, Avatar,” she retorts. “Surely you don’t think me that cowardly?”

“Please, my Lady,” Kor pleads, his eyes flickering towards her. “More cowardly would I be to allow your presence beside me knowing it risks you needlessly.” His eyes flicker to where Bolin has stealthily bent open a narrow tunnel near the wall while the attacking force’s attention is on Kor and the Inquisitors. He sighs with relief as the healers slip through bearing a few wounded to safety.

Outside the wall the dark spirits creep closer, brushing aside attacks from the guards as well as the invaders as the Order warriors realized the spirits made no distinction between the red surcoats of Lady Sato’s warriors and their own blue and white tunics. Screams fill the air as the rampaging spirits wreak havoc on the hapless humans who fail to move out of the way quickly enough. Bodies fly through the air.

Mako runs up, his hair and uniform looking slightly disheveled but his demeanor is otherwise unaffected by the chaos around them.

“The attack from the harbor has been repelled, but air scouts just arrived with reports that another force is marching in from the west.” He scowls as he glances in that direction.

“They seek to catch us unawares.” Lady Sato straightens, her face resolute. “We evacuate. Signal the metal benders to get ready to cover our retreat.”

“My Lady—” his voice trails off, his expression faltering as he takes in the beautiful grounds of the estate. “The manor…”

“Is just a place,” she finishes firmly. “I will not pay for it with the blood of my people.” She looks out to the harbor, tears in her eyes belying the steadiness of her words. “Our homes can be rebuilt, but lives cannot be replaced.”

He starts to object, then grits his teeth and nods. He glances at Kor, tense and silent next to her.

Kor meets his gaze, resolute. “I will hold them off as best I can.” Then he grins, remembering. “Let’s see if I’m truly as stubborn as you think me to me.”

He glares, then chuckles. “We can only hope.” He turns and starts shouting orders.

A firm grip on Kor’s shoulder pulls him around, blue meeting green. Before Kor can stop himself he cups her jaw, his eyes boring into hers.

“My Lady,” Kor whispers. “Stay safe.”

“I—“ she breaks off, placing one gauntleted hand over his as she steps closer. Her eyes are suspiciously bright.

“My Lady,” Kor says again. Behind them the screaming intensifies and his hand tightens. “Asami.” Her eyes widen then soften as he uses her name for the first time. “You must have a care for your people. I must do what I was born to do, but I swear to you now — I _will_ find you.”

She closes her eyes and swallows. “I will hold you to that.”

“ _Kor!”_ Raava shouts and he whirls to see the first dark spirit has breached the wall. He shoves Asami none to gently in the direction of her guards then sprints along the parapet, leaping into the air as he flashes back into the Avatar state.

The battle is met.

 

* * *

 

 

Dark, sickly light.

Explosions.

Inhuman screaming from tortured throats.

The tortured sounds of walls collapsing, stones raining down on the hapless warriors.

The battle feels endless, and fatigue pulls at every limb.

Only the quiet, loving voice of Raava keeps him sane.

“ _The spirits are tortured into darkness. Free them from their torment._ ”

He desperately punches a vortex of air at a nearby dark spirit looming over two cowering guards, a hurricane force merely distracting it briefly.

“ _Feel its pain. In its fear it lashes out.”_

The spirit turns its full attention onto Kor and surges forward.

“ _Heal their spirit.”_

“How?” he shouts desperately. A gout of fire flares from him but the spirit merely roars in defiance. He leaps back as a tentacled arm reaches for him, and he ducks under another spirit’s reach who had approached him unawares.

“ _Even now you attack them, enrage them further.”_

“They’re hurting people!” He flings himself across the courtyard and lands hard on the opposite roof, scrabbling desperately for purchase until he’s able to reach a broad chimney. Along the parapets and in the courtyard the surviving fighters fall one by one, stunned or killed he cannot tell. Gradually each spirit turns to face him, their jaws a gaping maw or rage.

Then to his horror he sees Kya standing near the tunnel entrance, blasting water at any spirit who dares come closer to the fallen behind her that are too wounded to escape. No longer concerned with the color of their uniform, she is the embodiment of a waterbending healer, tending to her patients. To his shock, the spirits fall back under her furious defense.

“ _Heal them, Avatar,”_ calls Raava, and Kor thinks of Wan and his teacup, and the joy of the spirits that clustered around him. He hears the echo of the first avatar’s cheerful voice.

“ _Find the balance, Kor!”_

Kor finally understands.

He straightens, his arms reaching out as if to embrace the horror before him. “Come to me, my brethren!” he shouts. “I, too, was like you, damaged and in pain!” He swirls into hands into the basic forms of a healer, swirling all the water he can gather into glowing blue sphere.

“ _You are the Avatar,”_ Raava reminds him. “ _Let the spirit world help you.”_

He closes his eyes, remembering the warm tea of the Jasmin Dragon, the beauty of the spirits that scampered joyfully across the landscape. He felt for their energy, add that joy to his sphere until he opened his eyes to see the blue replaced with sparkling lavender. Gently, as if tending a newborn babe, he reaches his healing forward, wrapping the dark spirits in a warm embrace, the sweetness of his energy soaking into them.

“Be healed!”

They come to a stop, as if in a daze. With agonizing slowness, the darkness starts to fade but Kor feels him body shaking from exhaustion. His arms start to fall despite his best efforts to keep them up and his healing energy flowing.

“ _You must not stop, Kor,”_ Raava encourages him. _“They are almost healed.”_

He grits his teeth, dropping to his knees even as he forces his hands to stay up, channeling the healing spirit energy through himself with every last ounce of will. After what feels like an endless wait, the blackness disappears, their shapes returning to their original state as they fade back into the spirit world.

With a groan his hands drop and his head falls forward, his chin resting on his chest.

“Kor!”

He looks up, bleary with weariness. Kya is looking up at him, her face awed. Then her expression changes to horror and Kor turns to see the bloody and battered form of Noatak, knife raised high over head.

“Die, Blasphemer!”

A flash of pain, and there is darkness.


	15. Chapter 15

Kor’s eyes jerk open. Indistinct shapes gradually resolve into the sleeping forms of Kya and Bolin. They are in a small room, the remains of a fire glowing faintly in the corner With a groan, he pushes himself upright and grits his teeth through a flash of vertigo.

Bolin’s eyes flicker at the sound, then his eyes pop open. “My Lord!” he exclaims. “You’re awake!”

Next to him, Kya yawns, the raises herself gracefully upright. “Welcome back, Avatar.”

Kor takes a deep breath, then looks around. “Where are we?”

Bolin hurries to leather packs piled against the wall and brings back a waterskin, which Kor gratefully accepts.

“We’re in a hunting hut,” Kya says. “Lady Soto set them up in case her hunters ranged too far from the estate to return home safely in one day.” She gestures at Kor to turn and bends to examine his back. “Your wound has healed nicely.” She looks at him carefully. “What do you remember?”

Kor struggles to think. “The dark spirits. Raava —“ his brow furrows. “She told me how to heal them, but I was so tired, I could barely breathe.” He suddenly straightens. “Noatak! The treacherous bastard…”

“You are lucky,” Kya comments. “If he had better aim, there’d be a new Avatar cycle starting.”

Kor gratefully accepts a loaf of bread and wedge of cheese from Bolin. “Where are the others?” he asks around a mouthful.

Bolin stiffens and turns away.

Kya sighs. “Lady Sato and Captain Mako had rallied the remaining guard and left to delay the new force. The metalbenders were to ensure the secondary evacuation was successful then march in relief. By the time they arrived they found most of the guard fallen. Lady Sato—” Kya’s voice catches and her face is anguished. “Lady Sato is missing, as is Captain Mako.”

“No,” Kor breathes. His heart starts to pound and he rises unsteadily to his feet.

Bolin sniffs and rubs his eyes with his sleeve.

The door to the hut slams open and in the doorway Kor sees the furious form of Master Toph.

“What are you doing?” she shouts angrily as she stomps inside. “Is this a picnic, boy? Are we having a fun time?”

Kya purses her lips. “He’s been awake for all of a few minutes, Master Toph.”

“That’s more than enough time!” Toph roars, then stops abruptly as a weathered hand rests on her shoulder and the solemn face of Katara appears from behind her. The waterbending master approaches Kor and he falls to his knees before her.

“I must go to her,” Kor rasps.

Toph scoffs. “Do you even know where to look, Twinkletoes?”

Kor takes a deep breath. “The Citadel.” He lifts his face to meet Katara’s gaze. “If they were taken by the Order they will be taken there.” His fists clench at the thought of Asami in the dungeons. “I will _not_ fail her.”

“You have failed her already,” Toph says angrily. “Or else she would still be here.”

Kor stares at her, his eyes narrowing. Then he turns and bows to Kya where she stands near Bolin. “I thank you for your care,” he says. “And I do not forget my oath to you and to her.”

Kya stares back, searching his face, then nods. “Bring her back, Avatar.”

He pushes past the spluttering Toph and through the door. Outside the stars are bright in the cold night, deceptively peaceful given the circumstances. He takes a deep breath, ignoring the tightness in his side from the newly healed wound.

“Kor, wait!” Katara calls, and he turns to see them all clustered in the doorway.

He shakes his head. “Now is not the time for waiting, Master Katara.” He looks down at the ground and takes a deep breath. “I know what awaits them.”

Katara smiled and shook her head. “I only ask you to wait, young Kor, because help is coming.” She points to the west. In the distance he can just make out a dark shape winging towards them. He glances back at Katara.

“The airbenders had scouts nearby, and were able to pass news along quickly to Master Jinora.”

The shape grows larger until it finally resolves itself into the familiar form of Druk. He glides to the ground, his wings flaring as he settles to the ground. Lord Zuko leaps to the ground in way that belies his years.

“Avatar,” he says gravely.

“My Lord,” Kor replies, glancing at Katara. “Was your kingdom not under attack?”

Zuko shakes his head. “I believe the fleet sent to us was merely to prevent our intervening against the attack on the estate.” He sighs. “Unalaq risked much, but I still am uncertain as to his goals.”

“I believe he wished to recapture the Avatar,” Kya said, her voice low in anger. “Barring that he managed to capture a very valuable hostage.”

Kor growls. “It is time Father Superior learns that not everything is under his control.”

 

* * *

 

 

They wait until twilight; with Druk’s size they cannot risk being seen by Order guards. At Kor’s direction the big dragon circles around from the north east, settling quietly to earth in a snow-covered clearing far enough away from the Citadel that Kor deemed it unlikely they would be discovered by Father Superior’s patrols.

“My fleet is sailing here now,” Zuko says grimly. “And I requested assistance from the Earth Kingdom, though we cannot count on their aid; they have their own problems with the constant fighting between the warlords. Regardless, I feel we can wait no longer. Unalaq must be stopped before he gains any more power.” He clasps Kor on the shoulder. “I’ll give you as much a diversion as I can.”

“Make haste, Avatar!”

They whirl to see the ghostly form of Master Jinora behind them.

Kor blinks. “How—“

“No time for that,” Jinora interrupts impatiently. “I was able to locate Lady Sato with assistance from Iroh and some of the friendly spirits from the Jasmine Dragon.” Her expression is fierce “She was brought to the Citadel through the Spirit World and already is being borne into the lower levels.”

Kor’s blood runs cold, and he turns to Zuko.“I need that diversion now,” he says urgently.

The Fire Lord nods. “You’ll have it.”

“Master Jinora, can you also…” he hesitates. “ _Travel_ to Master Katara and the others?”

She nods. “Then I beg of you to please do so. If I can I will retrieve Lady Sato and Captain Mako and make for the harbor as best I can. If not…” he sighs. “I hope my next incarnation is able to learn better from her than I.”

“I will relay your message Avatar,” Jinora assures him. “Then I will return as I am able to help.”

She disappears as Druk lifts off, a deep rumble in the dragons chest as he climbs skyward. Kor watches for a moment, then takes off towards the distant Citadel as fast as he dares. There are no airbenders in the Order (firebenders are considered outright heretics), so as much as possible he keeps to the tree tops, moving silently on a cushion of air.

In the distance he sees a flash of dragon flame, he thinks near the harbor. Closer to, he hears shouts from the Citadel as the guards run to see what’s going on. Another flash of flame, this time near the garrison barracks, and Kor can see Druk swerving back to the safety of higher altitude to avoid the water, ice, and boulders flung skywards from the defenders. Smaller bursts of flame erupt from his back, as Zuko incinerates anything that gets too close.

Kor pauses, perched amidst the sheltering branches of a huge pine, as close to the wall as he can stay unseen. He sees one lone guard still manning his post along the rear parapet, and as quietly as he can he approaches from behind. The guard senses his presence too late, and Kor fells him with a blow to his head, stripping him of his tunic before tossing him unceremoniously over the wall. The man was alive, but would be out of commission for the foreseeable future. He shrugs himself into the tunic and pulls the hood up over his head, hiding his face as he hurries to the stairs leading down to the lower courtyard. Another explosion, slightly farther away, and Kor grins at the thought of the old Fire Lord wreaking such havoc. Sergeants bawl out orders to the men, attempting to counter-attack against the nimble dragon, but too many men had been sent out with the attacking fleet that has yet to return and Druk continues to wreak havoc with his strafing runs of flame.

Kor glances around quickly then ducks through a doorway leading to the main hall. He keeps his head down and his hands clasped before him as he moves along the hallways, praying that he avoids anyone before reaching his destination; the thick wooden doors leading to the holding cells and interrogation rooms of the Inquisitors.

To his enormous relief, the Great Hall is empty. He takes a deep breath then strides across it, trusting to his disguise rather than stealth to see him across. No one challenges him, and he as he reaches the doors, he takes one last glance around before slipping inside. He pauses in the light is dim of the passageway beyond, allowing his eyes to adjust after the bright torchlight of the hall. The shouts and cries of the men outside is now heavily muffled, but it won’t be long until someone is sent here to sound the alarm.

A hoarse scream sounds from a distance, a sobbing cry of pain accompanied by the sound of straps on flesh. Kor sprints forward, searching frantically, before turning a corner and seeing the half naked form and bloodied form of Captain Mako, hanging from a chain by his bound hands. On either side of him two Inquisitor Guards stand, one with a whip, another with a poker that he holds in the brazier, clearly heating it up again to add to the blistered wounds on Mako’s chest. Kor blasts them both with columns of ice, loathe to use fire so close to the already suffering Mako. Once encased firmly, he slides them into a nearby cell and melts the lock shut.

“Captain,” Kor whispers, “just hang on.” He unshackles the unconscious Guard and lowers him carefully to the ground.

With a pained groan Mako’s eyes flutter open, then widen in surprise. “What are you doing here,” he rasps, then sighs in relief as Kor streams healing water around him, sealing up the wounds as best he can.

“I could not leave you here to suffer,” Kor replies. “As a firebender, I knew it likely you would be tortured, and quickly. Lady Sato…” His voice trails off.

Mako struggles to his feet. “They took her down that corridor.”

His voice is horrified, and Kor hurries to reassure him. “I do not think they will harm her, at least not at first. She is more valuable as a hostage.”

“Yes, she is,” says a deep voice behind them, and they whirl to see Unalaq, Father Superior of the Order of the White Lotus, standing before them. Behind him are two guards, one holding the unconscious form of Asami Sato, the other pressing a ceremonial knife to her throat. Kor’s fists clench and Unalaq smiles. “You arrived much more quickly than I anticipated, but I am so _very_ glad to see you, Brother Kor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You wouldn't like me when I'm angry..."
> 
> Shit's about to get real
> 
> :)


	16. Chapter 16

“So,” says Unalaq conversationally. “You will allow my guards to take you or I will kill this heathen witch.”

Kor works hard to keep his face impassive even as Mako sputters behind him.

“I have learned you are a man without honor, Uncle,” he replies finally. “And I have no doubt you will kill her anyway. Besides, she’s not a witch, by your own definition. She cannot bend. Her strength is hers and hers alone.”

Unalaq’s face registers his surprise as Kor’s temerity, then his eyes narrow. “It matters not. I know of this woman, who dares to call herself a _Lady_ ,” he spits. “A pretend ruler of stupid people.” His face darkens and his voice grows more shrill. “She defies the natural order of womens subservience!”

Kor quickly reaches out one arm, his palm slapping hard against Mako’s chest and holding him back as he tensed to spring. Unalaq takes one step back towards his guards at the naked fury on Mako’s face, this catches himself, his expression furious.

“You dare to rise against me,” he begins angrily.

“You are not fit to clean the mud off her boots!” he bellows in response, every inch Lady Sato’s loyal Captain. There is nothing left of his usual calm and sardonic presence. His torture at the hands of the Order and the sight of his Lady in enemy hands has demolished all of his control.

Kor slides his hand to Mako’s shoulder and grips tightly. “Hold fast, Captain, please,” he pleads under his breath. “And be ready.” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Mako clench his jaw then almost imperceptibly nod.

“I am Brother no longer, Uncle,” Kor says to the spluttering Unalaq, his voice cool and mocking. “I know who am I, and I know my purpose.” He takes a breath. “I know my father, and I know my history, and I know what you have done!”

He takes a step forward.

“You,” he points at Unalaq’s chest and his voice grows louder. “You are a fraud and an usurper! I have been to the Spirit World, I have flown with them, run with them, felt their joy. It is not how you’ve taught! You lie for your own greed and power. You care nothing of the spirits, the ones that attacked Lady Sato’s estate were tortured into darkness and I released them from their torment!” He takes another step forward and his voice drops to a growl. “With every power I have at my command as the Avatar of this world I will make sure you pay for your treachery!”

He rips off his tunic, and Raava blazes brightly on his chest. The guards holding Asami fall back in shock, and unsupported she falls to the floor in a heap as they back up in terror.

Kor’s eyes flare white as he flashes into the Avatar state. He forces a howling vortex of frozen air at them, blasting them down the hall. Their screams echo against the stones. With an angry shout Kor tears up the surrounding stones and seals up the corridor behind them, ensuring at least a little time for them to escape.

He turns to see Mako staring at him in astonishment. “ _You’re_ the Avatar?!!?!” he demands hoarsely.

Kor gives him a tight grin. “That’s what they tell me.” He gestures for Mako to follow him. “Come on, we don’t have much time.” He crouches over Asami’s body, tenderly running his hands over her body, searching for damage. He finds one good sized lump on the back of her head and immediately soothes it with glowing healing waters, and her eyes slowly open, then widen in surprise as she sees him.

“Kor,” she breathes.

Before he can stop himself he clasps her tightly to him in relief. “I was terrified that I lost you, my Lady,” he says, his voice trembling. He stands with her still in his arms, holding on for a moment longer, her own arms clutched tightly around him.

“I knew you would keep your promise,” she whispers in his ear, her voice tired.

He reluctantly sets her on her feet and looks over at Mako. He expression is comical, switching from shock to awe to bewilderment. Then he shakes himself and pulls back to cool professionalism.

Kor flicks two Inquisitor cloaks off nearby hooks onto them. “It’s very cold outside, and we must go now.” He leads them back up the passageway towards the Great Hall as fast as he dares, needing speed rather than stealth. “Lord Zuko has created a diversion for us,” he explains along the way. “I pray it still holds—”

He stops dead as a wave of pain and vertigo washes over him.

“Kor!” Asami cries, slipping herself instantly under her arm, supporting him as his legs buckle.

The ghostly form of Master Jinora’s projection appears before them.

“Make haste, Avatar!” she cries, her face anguished. “Unalaq has unleashed chaos!”

He feels a coil of fear in his gut. _Raava! What is happening?_

He feels the spirit stir within him, but she feels somehow sluggish. A wave of despair washes over him.

_I am the spirit of balance, and work through you and with you to protect the world. But as with everything, there is a counter even to me. Unalaq has somehow managed to find and free the spirit of chaos, I know not how. Even know he attempts to join with him to overcome our power. Beware Vaatu, my Avatar._

Kor’s eyes widen in sudden understanding as his mind flashes with memories ten thousand years old.

_Not good, Kor,”_ he hears Wan groan. _“Unalaq must not be allowed to unleash Vaatu on the world. It was hell getting him sorted the first time around.”_

Kor shudders at the flicker of ancient memories flooding his mind, then he straightens with sudden resolve and turns back to Jinora.

“Air Master, can you guide Mako and Asami to the clearing where Druk landed and alert Lord Zuko?”

Jinora nods. “I can. Come my Lady, Captain Mako. We must get you away.”

“No!” they both burst out.

“I cannot leave him,” Asami cries.

“We do not abandon our own!” Mako declares angrily.

Tears spring to Kor’s eyes as he looks at them in wonder. “I never knew what it was to truly feel affection, or peace, or friendship, and I can never fully repay that kindness,” he says finally, his raspy with emotion. “But what happens now is a battle of spirits and Avatars, light and dark, and I would be a poor friend indeed to risk either of you needlessly.”

He grips Mako’s arms in his hands. “Lord Zuko can carry you both to safety, and you must be prepared to rally every human army you can. If I fail, it will fall to this realm to stop what I could not.” He closes his eyes as he listens to the faint whispers within him. “The next Avatar will be born of the Earth Kingdom, so seek the child there.”

Mako nods, a faint grin on his face, “Fear not, Avatar, this world has a thing or two to show even the darkest of spirits!”

Kor smiles at this, then turns to Asami. She pauses for a heartbeat then flings her arms around him, pressing her face into his neck. “I do not release you from your pledge, Avatar,” she whispers.

“If anything can help me to victory in what is to come, is the thought of you,” he replies back, his voice soft. “I will never cease to keep my oath to you, until my last breath.” He pulls her more tightly to his chest. “Even if I am to bring peace and balance to both worlds, you are the one to show this world how we may life that peace every day and I honor that with all that I am, my Lady.”

She nods, her breath hot against his neck. He feels the dampness of her tears and presses his cheek against her hair. Then she steps back, her stance once again proud and powerful. “Until we meet again, Avatar.”

“Lady Sato,” Jinora says urgently, beckoning. “We must hurry.”

Without another word Asami and Mako turn and follow the Air Master into the Great Hall, and hopefully to safety.

Kor watches them until they slip out of sight, then leans against a stone wall and closes his eyes.

_Guide me, Raava. What must I do?_

 

* * *

 

 

He runs, his boots pounding the flagstones as he climbs higher and higher through the Citadel. What Order members he meets are usually running in terror, and those that dare to raise their hands against him he dispatches without mercy in his haste; the need to find Unalaq and stop him drives him with fierce desperation. Dark spirits are pulling themselves over the walls, jaws agape in glowing pain and anger, striking out at everything they see in their rage. He tries to heal them as he runs, his heart breaking at their pain and needing to reduce the distractions they can cause him once he finds his uncle.

He hears a mighty roar ahead of him and runs faster, searching for the source. At last he ascends the highest tower that overlooks the once beautiful landscape of the Polar Kingdom, now laid waste from Druk’s fire and even more from the rampaging dark spirits. He screams in pain at the horror of it, horror which swiftly transforms to wrath at the hideous violation of his world, all due to his Uncle, the betrayer.

Before him he sees Unalaq, his body transformed into a huge monstrosity, and over his skin flashes the sickly purple strands of a dark spirit. Unalaq whips his body around, clearly fighting for control.

_They are not yet joined,_ Kor hears Raava murmur. _Even now, Unalaq struggles for control. He does not understand that Vaatu does not share his power, he is no ally. Rather he consumes his vessel utterly to his will._

Kor takes a deep breath. _I must stop them now._

_Yes. But know, my Avatar, unlike Vaatu, we are truly one. Between us both worlds, the spirit world and the human one, exist in harmony. We give each other strength, and power, and love._

Kor feels himself relax as Raava’s affection fills him.

_You are mine, my Avatar, but I am yours. Together we can but succeed._

He smiles, and presses hands against his chest, shivering slightly at the feeling of power from the glowing form of Raava’s spirit.

_I gave my oath to Lady Sato,_ he says fondly. _But I also give my oath to you — that we whatever comes, we do this together, as one._

He feels her affection wash over him.

_Together as one, my Avatar._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is almost done, thanks all for hanging in there with me!
> 
> :)


	17. Chapter 17

The Citadel lies in ruins, destroyed by the violent struggles of the two towering behemoths locked in combat above it. Centuries old, it had withstood every invasion, always surviving as an example of the pride and fortitude of the Polar Kingdom. Now it was rubble, the once majestic tower collapsed across the piled remains of mighty walls. All who could have fled in terror, leaving only the still bodies of the fallen and the two enormous antagonists amidst in the silent devastation. Their bodies likewise show the ferocity of their battle — cuts and bruises obvious even through the glow of the accompanying spirits.

“ _You will submit to me, Raava,”_ booms the raspy voice emanating from Unalaq’s lips, the blood dripping down his face belying the confidence of the tone. “ _You serve no further purpose to this world._ ” Unalaq’a lip curls in scorn. _“You debase yourself by allowing these pitiful humans to consider themselves our equal.”_

The former Father Superior’s face is cold and merciless and his eyes burn with sickly purple light. Kor’s breath rattles harshly in his chest and his stomach roils as he stares at his former mentor and false spiritual guide, now succumbed to the horrible end result of his pernicious quest for power. Kor can sense little of his uncle in the figure before him; the alien malevolence of Vaatu overpowers what little is left of Unalaq’s humanity. He feels Raava stir within him and wills himself to relax into her control.

“ _You cannot defeat us, Vaatu,”_ Raava says, speaking through him softly but with strength to the spirit’s words. _“You always stand alone in your pride, and as always it will be your downfall.”_

“ _YOU WILL DIE, AVATAR, AND RAAVA WITH YOU!”_ Vaatu howls, the rage of the dark spirit palpable in its intensity.

As fast as thought the dark spirit lashes out, razor sharp ice shards ripping towards Kor. He deflects them with a raised wall of broken stone, the Citadel still providing protection to him even in its own death, huge plumes of shattered ice enveloping him.

Kor holds the memory of Kya and Bolin defending their wounded, of proud Captain Mako, staunchly loyal. He thinks fondly of his beloved teachers Katara and crusty Toph and the gruff warmth of Lord Zuko, and their dedication to his training. At last he’s filled with the vision of Lady Sato — her brilliance, her compassion, her beauty, and the inexplicable bond he knows lies between them. With them all firmly in his thoughts his resolve hardens, and he feels his strength resurge through his tired body, straightening proudly despite his fear. One hand resting reverently against his glowing chest he shouts his defiance. “I reject thee, Vaatu, spirit of chaos! I reject your darkness and gladly subject myself to Holy Raava’s purpose, to keep the balance of the worlds in place. My loyalty and obedience and my very life are willingly given in service to both worlds!”

Unalaq-Vaatu scream in rage at his words and unleash a flood of vicious energy at Kor. Ice and rock and fire and hideous dark energy streak towards him. With fluidity he never knew himself to possess Kor dodges and deflects before unleashing his own counter attacks. Despite his best efforts, his body aches from the blows that do manage to hit him. Blood drips from his forehead, and his arm, and his right leg trembles as he struggles to stay upright. Over and over again he throws his own strikes interlaced with Raava’s energy at the enraged figure, refusing to retreat. Flares of sickly light start to break through widening cracks in Unalaq’s body, and the incensed howling increases until it’s deafening. Kor struggles to keep himself from cowering against the painful din.

_Stand firm, my Avatar,_ Raava whispers to Kor. _I am with you._

He clings to her warm support and braces himself with gritted teeth, his arms still at the ready. Abandoning all bending attacks, Unalaq’s body lurches forward in desperation, hands clenched into claws that reach for Kor’s neck.

It’s almost too easy. Kor rolls in perfect fluidity and with the movement of his arms a spear of ice jabs forward into Unalaq-Vaatu’s heart. The dark being stumbles to a stop, head dropping to see the spear emerging from its chest before dropping to its knees, then falling prone among the piles of destruction of the Citadel. The body shrinks back to normal size as Vaatu’s spirit dissipates, the sickly black and purple glow slips away in tattered streaks. Kor hears a despairing scream of rage that fades into nothingness.

Kor drops to his knees, his rush of energy gone as he staggers and falls. His head drops, chin to chest. Pain flares across his ribs and down his legs as the extent of his injuries makes itself known.

“We did it, Raava,” he whispers. He realizes the ground is now much closer; his own size too has reduced to normal. The dirt is icy under his hands and he shivers as he feels the bitter cold press against his exhausted body.

_You did well,_ he hears Raava murmur and he nods, suddenly too tired to even speak. _Rest, Korraq, Prince of the North. For now, your battles have ended.”_

“Vaatu is gone, then?” he manages to croak out, even as his vision starts to blacken. “And Father Superior?”

_Your uncle is dead and Vaatu is vanquished._

Tears stream down his face as his emotions flood him, the loss of his family and of his identity, then to be reborn with the weight of two worlds on his young shoulders.

Once again he feels Raava’s warmth run through him and lifts his spirits.

_Be at peace, my Avatar. You have a world to rebuild now._ He feels her satisfaction _. Know that you have done well._

_“Not bad, Kor,”_ he hears Wan chuckle in agreement. “ _Not bad at all.”_

Kor’s eyes close despite his best efforts. He feels a warm touch brush across his cheek before he succumbs to oblivion.

 

* * *

 

 

“Lazy wretch, wake him up!”

“Shush, he’s still healing. I keep finding parts of him that are still damaged!”

“No excuses!”

Kor’s eyes feel cemented shut, but after some struggle he manages to open his eyes. Blurred vision reveals only human shaped shadows hovering around him. As his awareness grows he feels his head cradled in soft warmth and fingers running gently through his hair.

He hears a short inhale of relief and the fingers still. “You’ve given us quite a scare, Brother Kor,” he hears a soft voice say.

“Not a brother,” he croaks automatically.

He squints hard, willing his vision to clear, only to find himself resting in Lady Sato’s lap. She still shows the evidence of battle and of her capture, but there is a peacefulness about her he has never seen before, and her eyes crinkle affectionately as she gazes at him.

Then the reality of lying in her lap rushes at him all at once and he forces himself upright, stammering his apologies even as he struggles with a wave of dizziness.

“My Lady, forgive me, I—” he stops as fingers press firmly against his mouth, only to be replaced by the barest brush of her lips against his, followed by her cheek brushing along his jaw.

“I assure you I don’t mind,” she whispers against his ear. “Once again, you kept your promise to come back to me.”

“Always,” he murmurs back in awe. “Nothing could keep me away.”

She sits back and he stares at her in wonder, only to turn in annoyance at the sound of cackling behind him.

Toph wheezes with mirth as she leans against Katara, the old waterbender herself fighting a grin.

“The look on your face, boy, so obvious even _I_ could see it” Toph finally gasps. “I’m not sure he can handle you, Asami.”

The Lady merely raises an eyebrow, not at all offended by the old earthbender’s familiarity. “You yourself admit he’s an apt student, Master Toph.”

Kor’s face burns in embarrassment as Katara gives up her restraint and joins in the raucous laughter. Then he shakes his head, remembering from the early days of his training in the Spirit World.

“Well, at least Avatar Wan was right,” he admits finally, meeting Asami’s gaze and smiling as he reached for her hand and tugging slightly. Her head cocks as she waits. “He did say I would get the girl.”

She leans forward and captures his lips more firmly this time. “I do think you have, Kor.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least we reach the end. It ended up taking WAY longer to complete this story than I expected, but thanks so much to those who gave encouragement along the way. ObiliskX, hope it's been an okay story for you. :)

They stand together on the battered parapet of Lady Sato’s manor house. Huge chunks of broken stone scattered about give testament to the ferocity of the Order’s attack, and the terrible strength of the dark spirits. Beyond the house the acres of once pristine gardens and fields are mostly ruins, churned muddy by the feet of soldiers and cart wheels. The harbor lies choked with logs and the remains of ships, and the faint scent of smoke still hangs in the air.

Kor sighs and grips his hand more tightly around Asami’s fingers. He feels her return the grip, then release it as she steps forward, her face thoughtful.

“It can be restored,” Lord Zuko says at last, and Katara nods.

“A month or so and I’m sure we can get a new harvest in,” the old waterbender replies.

In the courtyard below them Druk snorts as he dozes, Master Toph sitting perched on his back and idly bending rubble into artistic piles.

Zuko rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Though the Order’s threat has been eliminated, I believe a place of quiet sanctuary is always a good thing, if you are still willing Lady Sato.”

She’s quiet for a while, and Kor watches her carefully. He’s starting to learn her tells and he knows with certainty that she already has plans whirling in her head.

“We will not rebuild what was,” she finally says, her voice low.

Zuko and Katara look at her in surprise, but she continues on.

She turns and throws her shoulder back. “A hidden refuge served it’s purpose, but the idea of sanctuary is too important to keep hidden. There are many people in this world who need a place to be regardless of who they are, and to live without fear or judgement.” She looks at the Fire Lord sternly. “If you would truly support the ideals we grew here, you will support me in what happens next.”

Katara’s lips start to curl into a smile. She knows her lady well; Zuko’s about to get a big shock.

“And what is that, Lady Sato,” he asks mildly.

Asami takes a deep breath. “A gift from you. These lands from the water to the mountains. We will build a city, bound by no Kingdom’s dictates or laws other that all be respected and learn from one another, bender or not.” She pauses, then nods her head decisively. “As you say my Lord, the world needs such a place, and I suspect there are more who would come here than you think. There needs to be a neutral place maintained in the world.”

Kor jumps as Toph cackles gleefully behind him. The wily old master had snuck quietly up to them in time to hear Asami’s words. “Ha! What do you say to _that,_ Zuko?”

Katara smiles, her face excited. “Imagine, my friend. No longer spending months negotiating which kingdom would even host a meeting, because of the fears of betrayal in foreign courts. No more need to send official hostages.”

Kor speaks up at last. “I need a place as well, my Lord. I may be son of the rightful King of the Polar Kingdom, but I cannot be his heir. My duties to the world take precedence.”

Zuko’s eyes grow wide. “Tonraq would never agree to this.”

“He already has,” Kor steps forward and takes Asami’s hand in his once again. “He understands my obligations very well, I think.” Then he blushed as he added. “But he did insist I visit regularly.” He pressed a soft kiss to Asami’s hand. “And between myself and the brilliance of Asami’s defenses, we could always ensure the safety of visitors, help arbitrate between factions.” He looks lovingly at Asami, and her green eyes glow with warmth. “Let there be peace instead of war.”

Katara shushes Toph, and they all watch Zuko stare out of the horizon, then he too started to smile. “These lands have ever been contested by the Earth Kingdom, though mostly for spite I suspect. And I held them for same.” He turned and bowed to Lady Sato. “I grant you this gift, Lady Sato. I know you will do well with it, and it might be the first thing I settle with that old harpy over in Ba Sing Se.”

Toph chortled again as Asami leaped forward and pressed a kiss to the old firebender’s cheek. “Thank you, my Lord.”

He blushed, then nodded. “Build your city, Lady. The Fire Kingdom supports you in this.”

“As does the Polar Kingdoms,” Kor adds.

“I’m sure Tenzin would agree that Air Nation does also,” murmured Katara.

Zuko looked sternly at Kor. “And together we’ll make the Earth Kingdom see reason.”

Kor shrugged. “I have no doubt, eventually.”

“Look there!” Katara called out excitedly. She points to the distance where a low cloud of dust announces the return of the caravans of Asami’s people, led by the Lin and Suyin and the rest of the Manor guard. The old waterbender grabs Toph and hurries down the stairs to open the gates.

Zuko clasps Kor on the shoulder. “I take my leave of you, Avatar, Lady Sato.” He looks out once more over the landscape, his gaze thoughtful. “Send word if I can help.” Then he smirks. “And I expect there will be a lively celebration at some point, so I’d best receive an invite.”

“Never fear, my Lord,” Asami promises. “Please give my father my fondest regards, and that I will come see him when I can.”

Zuko snorts. “He may come here first, when he hears there’s a young man sniffing around his daughter.”

Kor flushes furiously as Asami chuckles. She presses herself more firmly into Kor as she smirks. “Well, if you do choose to tell him that, at least tell him I’m in _very_ good hands.”

The Fire Lord’s laughter was loud and raucous over Kor’s mortified splutter, but for the first time in many years there was no underlying sadness to their joy, only hope for a better future.

 

* * *

 

“Lower the sails and ready the lines!” the ship’s captain bawls to the sailors, then turns to his silent passenger standing behind him. “Be just a moment, Your Majesty, and we’ll have your party ashore.”

Tonraq nods, then makes his way below decks. He knocks at the door to the main cabin before sticking his head in. “We’re tying up now. Are you ready?”

Kya looks up from where she’s conferring with the young man acting as Tonraq’s page, part of the newly crowned king’s limited concession to pomp. A small troop of hand-picked guards already waits patiently on deck for them, ready to escort them ashore. “I see you’ve _forgotten_ to pack your formal tunic,” she frowns.

“I hate it,” Tonraq complains. “It’s no fit thing for a warrior.”

Kya grins. “Good thing I had another one made more to your liking then,” she teases. She tosses something dark blue at him. “Here. Get changed, and then let’s go see what they’ve been up to.”

They emerge on deck and, with some clatter from the guard forming up, make there way to land where a formal reception awaits them, formality that’s tossed out the window when a figure jumps from a waiting carriage and hurries over.

“Papa!”

Tonraq grunts as Kor wraps his arms tightly around him. “I’ve missed you!”

“And I you, son,” Tonraq frowns. “Step back and let me have a look you.”

Kor has grown in the months apart. While messages between remained frequent, the rebuilding of both their homes made in-person visits far more troublesome. The young Avatar stands taller and more confident, his skin darkened and muscles grown from days of laboring in the sun. Tonraq sees an ease about him now that despite the months of toil obvious about him, his son glows with contentment. He turned to one of the likely causes for this. “Has he behaving myself, my Lady?”

The beautiful noblewoman smiled and nodded. “Ever a true gentleman, Your Majesty, I assure you.”

“Hey! I’m right here you know!”

Tonraq grunts, but his eyes twinkle merrily at his son’s outrage, while Kya steps forward and embraces the Lady warmly. As they turn back to him he offers his arm to both women. “Let’s see what you’ve been up to, shall we?”

They laugh merrily and join him, to Kor’s obvious disgruntlement, but soon he gives up pretending to be offended and cheerfully leads the way.

“The layout is complete, and about three quarters of the buildings are completed. The work has sped up as more people have arrived, particularly from the Earth Kingdom. Having more earthbenders has made a huge difference.”

They crest the hill above the harbor and Tonraq and Kya gasp. Before them a small city spreads out reaching a third of the way towards the mountains. The old manor house has been repaired, but the walls have been opened up and expanded, encircling the city rather than the house itself. There are many green patches amidst the buildings, and several broad avenues that stretch all the way across the city, north to south, east to west.

Scores of people abound doing all manner of tasks. The closest park is a lovely garden of trees and flowers, but one farther along is clearly host to a huge kitchen garden, and each hosts a number of workers weeding and planting.

There’s a hint of music in the air, and the smell of cooking food. As the group walks forward, they get some strange looks at the guards, but the people shout out to Asami and Kor happily enough.

“New lumber arrived, my Lady!” calls one man.

“Enough to finish the south-west corner?”

He nods, “Yes, my Lady. Maybe even with some left over.”

She smiles. “Excellent. I’ll send word to Bolin to make sure you get the workers you need.”

“And we I have fresh dumplings steaming, Avatar,” teases the woman next to him. “Since you seem to respond to bribes well.”

Kor grins broadly. “I’ll be by to help soon, my friends.” He looks over at Tonraq and Kya, still looking around with bemused expressions. “But first I have a family reunion to navigate.”

Captain Mako greets them as they enter the house, reaching out to shake hands with Tonraq and his sergeant, both whom the captain knows well from their days as members of Lady Sato’s fishing fleet. “Bring us any fish?”

Asami chokes a little at Mako’s temerity, but Tonraq merely guffaws as he claps him on the shoulder. “Not this time, though we do hope to get a little fishing in while I’m here.”

“Bolin found a new spot on the river,” Mako replies, his voice low as he glances at his Lady before looking at Kya. “We’ll sneak you two over there soon. I know you’ll want in on this too.”

Kya beams and mouths, “Thanks!”

Kor snickers but pushes open the door for Asami. In front of the large fireplace against one wall of the Great Hall stands a distinguished looking gentleman with greying hair and beard, a glass of wine in one hand. He looks up as they enter, his face curious. He places his glass on a nearby table and walks over to join them.

“King Tonraq,” says Lady Sato formally. “Allow me to introduce my father, Lord Hiroshi Soto, advisor to the Fire Lord.”

Lord Sato bows briefly, then holds out his hands and bows in greeting. “Your Majesty, I am pleased to see you restored to your rightful office.”

Tonraq nods and returns the gesture. “And I am most pleased to meet the father of a woman to whom I hold in the highest regard. We are all in her debt.”

“Your son’s debt as well, if I understand correctly,” he replies.

“He does okay, I suppose.” Tonraq looks over and winks at his son.

“Hey!”

The two men chuckle as Asami leans over and kisses the sputtering Avatar on the cheek. “Come along, let’s show your father the best view.”

The group climbs the nearby staircase up to a large balcony. What once was an enclosed courtyard is now an open plaza with fountains, shops, and musicians. From their new vantage point the new city looks even more magnificent, and they can now see the expanded fields in the far distance, and new roads being cut towards distant cities.

“Truly a remarkable achievement, my dear,” Hiroshi says proudly. “I have taken the liberty of having copies prepared of your new sanitation system that I wish to present to the Fire Lord.”

“Sanitation? Really?” Tonraq asks, surprised.

Kya pokes him in the arm. “As with men, a city is only as healthy as it’s plumbing.”

Tonraq groans. “You’re just saying that because you never think I eat enough greens.”

Kor bursts out laughing at his father’s glum expression. “She’s keeping you on your toes, I see.”

The King huffs irritably then grins. “Yes, she does.” He turns to face his son more fully and takes a deep breath. “My son, I know we are here to celebrate and bless your new engagement.” He looks over at Lord Sato who nods agreeably as he stands near his daughter. “But I am also here to ask _your_ blessing.”

Kor blinks. “My blessing for what, Papa?”

Tonraq blushes and holds out his hand. To Kor’s surprise Kya steps forward and takes it. The master healer’s face is warm with affection.

“Your mother was one of my dearest friends, Kor,” she explains. “And when I stayed behind to help in the Polar Kingdom, I was both trying to help my people as well as keep a promise she asked of me, which was to take care of him.” She rested her hand on a burly forearm.

“We did not expect friendship to become more,” Tonraq rumbled, then his face turns slightly sheepish. “But it has, and more than that she now bears a child, one whom I would make my heir since you cannot take on that duty.”

Kor’s face goes blank with shock, and Asami takes one step forward, her own face concerned at his expression. He focuses on a suddenly nervous Kya.

“You’re pregnant?”

She nods, a little uncertainly.

He reaches forward slowly, then his hand pauses. “May I?”

She looks at him for a long moment, then takes his hand and presses it to her belly, only the merest hint of a swell under his hand.

“My sibling,” he says, tears choking his voice, before he looks up. “And my new mother? Do I have your forgiveness?”

Tears stream down his face as Kya’s eyes light up, and she pulls him to her. “My brave boy,” she whispers. “You earned that, and my love, long ago.” Tonraq pulls them both into his arms, and after a moment reaches out and pulls Asami and Hiroshi in as well.

“There was a family torn asunder,” the King said softly, “that has now been created anew. We are all blessed.”

Kor wipes his eyes and wraps an arm around Asami. “That we are, Papa.”

She turns and kisses him, cupping his jaw in one hand. “I think so too.”

Arms around each other they continue to stand on the balcony, looking out over the city, full of light and hope, a beacon for any darkness.

_Fin._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going back to RAaVA and the Galactic Tales of the Fire Ferrets next, hope to see you all there...
> 
> Peace out,  
> -V95


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